The Seed
©November 13, 2025 Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com
Entering the labyrinth,
one prayer—her name.
Rain, sun, fierce wind, receive us.
Gentlest of steps, as we walk this stormy ground.
Leaves race across spiral path, singing high-pitched notes,
light and rustling.
almost missed,
had senses not been wide open—
Maple seed, twirling,
round and round
in chaos.
Tiny one,
hugs a crack between two paving stones:
a pause,
a rest.
Little seed on a journey
Where will she come to land?
Stony ground? Fertile soil.
No matter from where she descended,
rain, sun, fierce wind,
will carry her,
towards her growth.
