Seeds and Stones

How dark and unfruitful, it seems,
laying deep inside the ground,
our stone awakes not,
but merely trembles,
with the tremors of the earth.

How dark and cold it is,
lifeless dirt being all that we know,
and how quickly it is that
we call ourselves a stone,
a stone amongst only earth alone.

Always it is dirt to us,
never is it soil,
always it should discourage-
and prevent us,
from seeking what's beyond.

But what if that stone could grow,
to find,
to awaken,
to master, and become.

What life would stir inside of us,
What things we would discover,
and how different, would we be,
from everything around us.