Seed Song
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I am the seed

so small, so dry,

lifted in the hand

of the silent Sower.


Into the earth

I fearfully fall,

darkness covers me,

silence surrounds me.


the terror of my heart

is the only sound

to keep me company.

all that is me

huddles together

trying desperately

not to surrender

any part of the self.


why was I planted?”
I cry out.

“why am I here?”

I entreat.

“take me out into the light;

I cannot bear

this deathly dark.”


I weary.  I weaken.

the days become long.

I can no longer fight.

I surrender

in this lonely place

of waiting.


quietly I sense

a penetrating warmth;

it surrounds me;

it fills me

and blesses my pain.


In a moment

of peacefulness

I forget my fear.


I let go of my self

and suddenly

the husk that holds me

weakens and breaks.


No!” I scream.

I am losing my self,

but it is too late.

the husk is cracked;

I cannot be contained.


It is then

that I sense a power

deep inside of me,

encouraging me,

“let go. let go.  let go.”


It is an energy

the pushes the husk

until it falls away.


As it slips aside

my eyes behold color.

ah! can it be?

a tiny glimpse of green!


how could that be?”
I marvel,

“there  was never green

in the heart of me.”


yet, it is there;

each day

it slowly stretches upwards

to where the warm

seems to be.

I become less of a seed.

I am losing my self

but the pain I once knew

is lost in surprise;

something wonderful

deep within my heart.

is greening and growing


days go quickly now.

I become one

with the small stem of life.


Oh!  the glorious moment

when, ah, breath of Spring

fast fills my face.

I move through the hard earth

and taste the world which awaits my arrival.


from within my tender shoot

comes a soft sound.

I listen.  I hear.

it is a song to the Sower:

O Sower of seeds,

did you always see

the gift of green

that was hiding in me?

O Sower of seeds,

how came you to praise

the beauty within

that I hid from my eyes?


O Sower of seeds,

the husk has been broken;

all praise to you

for helping me open.


Accept now my praise

 my thankfulness, too,

for the seed you have sown

and the gift you grew.


May you lead me to others

who await your good word,

so the seed within them

can awaken and be heard.


Amen!  alleluia!


-Joyce Rupp


from Fresh Bread

(Ave Maria Press, 1985)