One day I saw a seed,
hopeless on a busy sidewalk,
holding on between the cracks,
trying to avoid the outline with white chalk.

At first, I admired its resilience.
The more the wind blew it,
the more it appeared to hold on.
Each time it was displaced,
it rolled back up until it found another
crevice or break in the hard concrete.

I didn’t know what kind of seed it was.
It didn’t matter.
I realized that for the seed to have a
chance to fully fulfill its purpose,
I must intervene.

Standing by on the sidelines was okay
as long as there was a fighting chance,
but not stepping in when destruction was
imminent is like the heels of my shoe
delivering the fatal blow.

So, I picked the seed up and
planted it so it could have more
than just a fighting chance to grow.

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Published by The Brown Sugar Café

Author of “Love Letters: A Collection of Poems” and "The Essence of Love" View all posts by The Brown Sugar Café