Scattered Truth
It gets tossed along the busy streets
Where every kind of bird and insect feed
Trampled underfoot and turned to dust
The hungry find their fill
Yet they remain unsatisfied
It often lands upon the gravel road
A place that’s rough where the rain hardly falls
There’s no place for the roots to grow
The child finds the sugar
It’s sweet but does not endure
Sometimes it’s forced to grow among the shadows
Of the prickly-pear or the thorns of a pretty rose
Cut off by the others growing there
It starves for attention
And silently passes away
But once in awhile it falls in a lovely place
Where life-giving water flows
And the radiance of a loving sun glows
It grows into a mighty tree
That scatters a hundred or thousand seeds
To be blown by the wind to places unknown…
