I Hold It In My Hand

I can see it,

I can manipulate it with my fingers.
It is warm and it is light, so light I dare not draw breath.

I dare not breath as it is so frail it could turn to dust with the slightest of breezes.
So I Will hold it,
I will protect it and I will nurture it.
I will let it grow and I shall nourish it.

I will guard it with my heart so that if harm comes toward I shall fail first,
But know my heart is strong and it does fail easily.

Grow it can and grow it shall.

It will become strong!
So strong that it cannot be dented bruised or burned.

For now I simply hold this tiny thing in my hand,
It is but a seed.
It will become stronger than any oak.

You can try to take it but you cannot,
It is part of me now.
I do not bend or bow for I am grown from the same soil.

I hold it in my hand I will not let go.