Thorns
They pierced the seeds who wanted to grow in the Parable of the Sower. The farmer was careless in throwing the seeds. There was no aim. There was no pattern. So they died. A few of them lived. A few of them, the chosen ones, were destined to live. The others had to die.
Which seed are you? The story always seeks an answer upon arrival at the end. What do you think?
I was one of the few gathered by the sower to plant that they. I was not one of the chosen ones. Rather, I was the among those who went astray.
You were the thorn who pierced me. You were the rock who hindered my nourishment from the soil. You were the passerby who crashed me. But I will live. I will plead the sky to rain so hard that I will be flushed to where the soil is. My roots will reach out as far as I can. I will survive.
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