The sprout, poem (106/365)


I planted a seed
And for weeks
I waited for something
To grow
I had hoped
For something
Perhaps a full plant
But another week
I retraced all of my steps
The soil, the water,
I even thought of the seed
Maybe it was a bad one
Never meant to make anything
And I started to question the growth
Why isn’t this working
I lost faith in the process
and moved the plant
On a lower shelf
And placed on the shelf
Above some daisies
And I watered them
And I forgot about the seed
And I forgot about my dreams
Of planting anything
And I just thought I can only
From now on
handle premade flowers
And I stopped watering the seed
And I lost hope
I called myself a botanist no longer
Because the plant didn’t sprout
My thumbs no longer possess magic
And I slowly started settling
Till I could no longer find me
In my garden
but instead the plants of others
Watering the daisies
I dropped a glove
And I below
And I saw a sprout from the seed
I had forgotten about
The over flow of water from daisies
Kept it alive
And that’s when
I realized I just should have
Trust the process
And I moved the sprout up
And I started to dream again
Allowing me and the sprout
The sunshine we needed




2 comments on “The sprout, poem (106/365)

  1. Gede Prama says:

    Dear friend, Thank you very much, I’ve visited your blog, read an article that is quite interesting, makes me really happy to have been following your blog and you are an awesome blogger, full Inspiring and hope you can inspire more readers. Thank you and best regards from Gede Prama affection 🙂

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