A Seed by William Allingham
See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down,
And through the Winter neglected lay,
Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown,
With tiny root taking hold on the clay
As, lifting and strengthening day by day,
It pushes red branchless, sprouts new leaves,
And cell after cell the Power in it weaves
Out of the storehouse of soil and clime,
To fashion a Tree in due course of time;
Tree with rough bark and boughs’ expansion,
Where the Crow can build his mansion,
Or a Man, in some new May,
Lie under whispering leaves and say,
“Are the ills of one’s life so very bad
When a Green Tree makes me deliciously glad?”
As I do now. But where shall I be
When this little Seed is a tall green Tree?
How many things do we see during any given day that we give no notice to? It is hard to miss the faces we love, the clothing we pick out, our visage in the mirror, but do we really notice how huge the sky is, the color of the sunlight on tree bark, the curve of the page as we turn it?
Today I saw so many things: 5 horses near a barn, two white Shetlands and three brown carriage horses, a wire fence bordering the road with rusty barbed wire in a line along the top of it, tan-colored weeds surrounding a white mailbox on a wooden post, black shutters on a white house, a large tree lying on its side with its platter of roots black and wet standing up and reflecting on the brackish water surrounding it, lavender dresses and denim pants flapping on a clothes line, a pink paper bookmark ripped in half that fell out of two books, a stream of gravel trailing down a curving road, glass beads sparkling under fluorescent light, a rusted barrel balanced on a wooden post. I marveled at the silhouettes of blackened trees against the night sky and mercury lights reflecting in long lines on a narrow stream.
I see miraculous things every single day – from the hands that type these words to an endless furrowed field awaiting the seeds that will feed thousands of people, God’s creation takes my breath away.