To sow the seed,
to find the fertile soil,
I need to leave the wayside  –
stop trafficking in rutted expectations,
bills of goods we’ve sold ourselves,
cynics’ worldly trade

And I need to get beyond the rocky ground,
and thorns, springing up to choke the green –
superficial judgments of what others are,
temptation nagging me
to play the games

To see the wonder of the seed’s growth,
multiplication beyond the world’s belief,
I need to find the mystery
of the depth of love,
which blossoms every time
our hearts meet.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 11, 2023