Lovely Seeds: A Walk Through the Garden of Our Becoming

by R.H. Swaney

The world is a tapestry, the thread is our heartstrings. As long as we keep creating, keep living, keep breathing, we’ll weave beauty into everything we touch with loving hands and passionate hearts.

The windows plea beg yearn for a moment of your time. If you just look past the curtains, you will see a world of beauty.

Sometimes, there are parts of us that need to die before we can truly grow. Sometimes, it takes a secondary succession to truly see the beauty that can arise from the scorched surface.

Although we may lose a feather, let it not hinder our flight.

Let’s wage war on what breaks people, not broken people, themselves.

The trees shed their leaves with the understanding that their branches will be filled, once again, in a season not so far away.

I wish I could apologize for the sins of a thousand men and take away the pain caused by all of them.

You see darkness. I see a candle waiting to be lit. It’s all about perspective.

Sometimes you’re the teacher, and sometimes you’re the student. Our entire existence consists of teaching and learning.

Let’s open our ears to hear the sound of experiences that are different than our own. This is where we grow.

If words are seeds, let flowers grow from your mouth, not weeds.

When this world is thirsty, let your words be water.

Speak words into hearts you wish were spoken into yours.

In this broken world, we must tear down the systems and circumstances that break us, not simply tear down our selves.

Let’s write stories with our actions that will leave footprints towards a better place for future souls. Let’s tear up the blueprints for broken homes, and teach our children how to learn and grow in a future full of positive progression. Let us teach that mistakes can turn into learned lessons in a blanket of forgiveness, instead of negative aggression.

My empathy towards a fellow human does not justify their negative actions. Rather, it is an admission that we are, in fact, simply human. To progress, we must address the root of evil, not just its bitter fruit.

Can we, for a second, talk about people, not politics? Can we address humanity, not policy?

This world is not black and white, so let’s stop polarizing and forming sides. Because we all have a heartbeat, we all were a seed buried deep in the womb of a woman, just some of us were born in a war-torn country.

Let us enjoy the chill, for now, then bury our regrets in the snow and watch them melt away when the songbirds sing.

Our bones will wither away, but the love that we spill will stay.

As our stems sprout, we can offer what we’ve learned about what it means to grow to the ones around us. And when our petals begin to show, our valiant colors give hope to those who need it most.