I Am The Seed

by Thomas Heng

I am the Seed,

The one that was Formed and Planted

by Your Loving Hand.

I who was Nothing,

I who now can Be,

Through Your Divine Grace,

I who have been Sown into this land.

I am the Seed,

The one that Emerges

Out of darkness, into the light

I who Creep a single green Shoot,

To Embrace the Warmth You Provide

And the cool light of the Evening,

The one who Shivers under

The First Dew You Caringly Placed.

I am the Seed,

The one that Wavers unceasingly

In the constantly fickle wind,

I who Care little about being a Sapling,

I who Worry more about juvenile Appearances

The one who Rebels against the Destiny

That You ahead of me Wisely Forged.

I am the Seed,

The one that Weathers both night and day

Through the erosion of tumult and strife

I who Strive for years

To be Addressed as a Tree,

The one who Shelters all and sundry,

Those whom You have Shrewdly Appointed.

I am the Seed,

The one that Succours many in need,

The one that Bears much Fruit,

The one that Releases thousands of seeds from captivity,

Yet I am but a Seed,

The one that was Formed and Planted

by Your Loving Hand.