They slip into the ground,

buried there alive—

Burrow down to death— You’ll find;

magic Seeds that strive.

 

Dainty roses, small pigweeds,

giant redwood trees,

bundled up in teensy shells;

born to thrive, are these.

 

Thoughts are magic seeds;

buried in the mind.

Thoughts sprout flowers,

thoughts grow weeds;

giant trees— you’ll find.