The Seed’s Prayer

I would be grateful 

for even a small place 

in the work of the world.

I would transform myself

and become other

than what I am now.

I would shed the cotyledon shell 

off my hardened heart,

and reach beyond its rooting darkness.

I know my plumate’s leafy purpose

and will play my role in perfect faith

as I take one last green stretch.

I was once the heart of a flower.

Now I will serve below the earth’s surface.

Before the flower freshly rises, I will be gone.

Spring has always been this way. 

Lorrie Wolfe is an author, award-winning editor, and community organizer. She believes in the power of words to unite and move people. Read more.

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September Morning