A fertile soil is a child’s wondrous mind.
Sow seeds of love, light and dreams and watch them sprout their leaves.
First, they grow roots, roots you will not see.
Roots that break open from the seed and make their way down.
Always working, when you care and nurture.
Sometimes quiet, waiting for that shower.
Not all seeds are same, not all seeds wake up together.
They take their time, they work their way.
Until one day they grow those lovely green leaves.
And maybe a beautiful bloom.
Someday. Someday.
At their own time, in their own season.
Until then till the ground of their minds, root out the weeds,
And keep watering the good seeds.
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