Today as I was walking

past the corner of Cherry and maple street,

I came across a pack of seeds

brushed under my worn out feet.

I quickly got to smashing,

ensuring every seed diminished.

You see, I did not like to plant these seeds

and my business with them never ever seemed to be quite finished.

You see, I used to plant seeds

each and every day...

but no matter what I tried,

they refused to do exactly as i say.

When I got home that night,

Momma could easily see my frustration.

Instead of asking me what was wrong,

out came her bible and her reading light.

She turned those worn out pages

to the famous letters in red.

She glanced at me one last time

and began to tell me the words that Jesus said.

Sometimes seeds fall among the thorns

and other times it's stone.

Then we have the good ol' ground,

and that's only if the seeds don't get windblown.

It's not up to you, she said,

to make those little seeds sprout.

It is merely your job to plant those seeds,

and that's what life's about.

Momma glanced over her glasses

and promptly squeezed my hand.

She always knew exactly what to say,

even if it wasn't planned.

I left that conversation

with a different point of view.

Instead of stomping on those seeds,

I asked "What would Jesus do?"

Then, as I went walking

past the corner of Cherry and Maple Street,

I came across that pack of seeds,

brushed under my freshly rested feet.

I quickly got to planting

ensuring every seed was planted.

You see, I grew to love these seeds,

and I learned that not every wish is granted.

As I returned home that night,

Momma greeted me with a big ol' hug.

"I'm so proud of you." she said,

then took a sip from her coffee mug.

(all photos used courtesy of shuttershock.com and wallpaperlayer.com)