A seed fell between the cracks
of a rock beside the stream,
robbed of earth and water both,
both robbed of life and dream.
A great tree it could be,
if the seed but made the choice,
to still grow inside the rock,
despite the silence of its voice.
"It's not ideal, but I'll grow,"
The tree seed decided that day.
"Though ruined at birth and cheated by fate,
I can still decide to be okay."
For the rest of its life
the seed adapted to the boulder
and pushing back against the stone,
pushed up and out and over.
Without sky or sun or earth,
all things needed to thrive,
The seed flourished and grew,
nourished by grit and will and drive.
- J.M. Robison
