The Seed's Promise: A Human's Choice

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As a seed, I fell to earth — a whisper in the dust,

My fleeting form entrusted to the soil’s quiet trust.

Through winding roots, I drank the earth's desire,

And rose a tree, each branch reaching higher.

My leaves once fell, but my soul held true,

Offering shade for lives that gently grew.


I soared on wings from fields once green,

A butterfly — vibrant, swift, unseen.

Yet never lost the root that held me near,

That silent strength the earth made clear.

Rivers etched wisdom in each stone I passed,

A bottled thirst turned knowing at last.


In every tiny, trembling seed, a miracle hides,

Where earth and sky and time itself resides.

The air we breathe, the water’s tender call,

The trees that stand — they cradle us all.

This living sphere, this green expanse we see,

Is not just home — it is eternity.


But we, blind in gain, sow ruin as reward,

Forget the breath of trees, the rivers we ignored.

Our greed sows silence where song once grew —

No vibrant wing, no skyward view.

Will future steps fall on dust alone,

Where roots once sang, now dry and stone?


Yet I stand smiling — for deep the water flows,

In roots that reach where silent promise grows.

Earth still holds the breath we need,

Air still sings in every seed.

A chance remains to rise once more,

To plant, to heal, to re-restore.


So grow, little one — take steps, though small,

From deepest root, to touch the sky’s wide wall.

Let every leaf, each wing, each drop and tree,

Remind the world who we must choose to be.

For earth, for water, for breath in the air —

Life calls us gently: tend, rise, repair.

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