The seed grows where it falls, as it must,
In barren ash or on to fertile ground.
It does not question if its lie is just.

Whether watered loam or arid dust,
Whether river vale or rocky mound,
The seed grows where it falls, as it must.

Those sprouts in poorest climes will never lust
For fairer soil than those to which they’re bound.
They do not question if their lie is just.

No matter circumstances, they adjust--
Put down roots to flourish where they’re found.
The seed grows where it falls, as it must.

In time they blossom, hardy and robust,
With flowers on each bough and stem they’re crowned.
They never questioned if their lie was just.

Each seed’s a life within, and it must trust
That life will find a way, and death confound.
The seed grows where it falls, as it must;
It does not question if its lie is just.

10/9/2025