-=The Seed=-
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Life is flowing in this stream
Vibrant clear waters flowing from the mountains
The water mummers as it passes me by
My eyes follow the current of the stream
I sit by an old oak
It stands alone
With limbs spread afar
The trunk supports my back
The roots reach deep in the soil
Drinking from that magic stream of life
My back feels the bark of the oak as I rest
The sun warms my flesh
The cloudless sky is blue as baby's eyes
Soft and gentle
My feet lay sprawled before me
And my head rests back on the tree
I think of nothing while I sit
I am just one with nature
It is then I hear the voice
Like the wind
The voice whispers to my soul
My hand rises up without a thought
As if to hold the voice in my dreamy state
I reach for the voice
My hand is open, palms turning up
The voice lulls my eye lids closed
Peace fill me inside
Then the voice is gone
I close my hand as if to hold the voice
Though I lost the voice
I felt a small object in my fist
It Pulsed with warmth that filled my hand
I brought it to my face
My hand opened
Revealing a seed
I knew then what I must do
But doubt came with that knowledge
My eyes are locked on the seed
So small and helpless do I perceive it
To grow it must be planted
I would have to care for it till it fully grown
But do I want to give my time?
Give it my energy?
Give it a piece of my life?
Is it worth it?
What will it grow?
As I said, doubt filled my mind
I just sat there, watching the seed
Saw the seasons change while rested against the tree
Watched the leaves turn colors and fall away
Watched the grass turn white in every morning light
Watched the rain turn to snow
I felt no cold for the tree sustained me
Still I sat, staring at the seed
I watched the snow turn to rain
Saw the cold fall away
Watched the spring rains come and go
Watched the ground bake and dry
Twice I watched this season go by
That seed still in my upturned hand
But with the passing days
It started to shrivel and decay
I know I must act
I know I must do something
The season changed again
The leaves are full of vibrant colors now
And still I sit, under the tree
It is then I tire
My eyes close and my mind wanders
The voice comes back to me then
Soft and sweet as it caresses my soul
Then it is gone
My eyes open
My hand is empty
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I now know what it was
Who owned that voice
God was the voice
Jesus was the giver
A gift, a blessing from on high
Given special just for me
But I refused Jesus and the gift he gave
I threw it all away
I never planted the seed
It dried up and died because of me
What I'm trying to say is this
Don't be afraid of God's gift
Plant it in your heart
Thank God for it every day
Then you will reap what you have sown
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please forgive me Lord
Please bless me with your voice
Please send your Son to try again
Please help me find my way
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