The Seed
I had a little chat
With my friend, the seed
And I tried to tell her
That one day she’d be a
zucchini plant.
And you know what she said?
“I don’t think that’s true.
I think I’ll be dead.”
“No, no,” I said.
“Here’s how it works.”
And then I explained
That if she goes in the dirt
And gets all covered up
And then watered with rain
She’s sprout right back up
As a new kind of thang.
“Ha! “ said the seed.
Oh boy, did she laugh.
“That won’t ever happen.
It will not. It can’t!!
If I go underground
And get covered in dirt,
Only one thing can happen.
It’s this: I’d get hurt.
A tiny old seed
Like me cannot change
From my tiny round shape
Into a new kind of thang.
I’m a seed. That’s my world.
That’s my job. That’s my name.
I live in this package
And I won’t ever change.”
“My seed, my dear seed,”
I said back to her then.
“I wish you could see
That this isn’t the end.
The shape that you’re in
Is not your last form
You won’t stay a seed
In fact, you’ll transform.
You will break apart
And yes, it will hurt
And yes, in the dark
And yes, in the…
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