The seed that must die for it to live . . .

‘Except a corn of wheat 
fall into the ground and die,

it abideth alone: 
but if it die, 
it bringeth forth much fruit.’

In calming the quivering earth---the watered seed---
Accepting the suddenness of its dreadful blessing---

Draws from it a sense of settled place---

In which---in secret---to swell---and then to split.

And the pressing darkness that had been upon it---
The veiling shroud---now understood: 
The essential part in its inner growth--- 

And the pain of the stretching was unto the uttermost.

The death of it for life must rend aside its earthen skin---

And the true dividing of its heart in two parts

That it might live that life---above---rooted below---
For another life---it had hardly dreamed of
And never seen.

Of what it might become---
It had no knowledge.
It could not see.

The lovely flower---its future destiny---
Un-imagined in such compacted darkness.

Yet the sun---reaching in---drew out its heart upwards
What it could not understand it trusted---
For all within---responded!
Moving beyond itself for joy of entering warmth. 

It is loving that matters.

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