The Seed Will Be Seen

I am the storyteller of the unseen,

Planting truth in quiet soil.

Some seeds bloom in daylight eyes,

Others wait beneath the stars — patient, whole.

My words may wander, but they are never lost.

They echo, they return, they bloom

In hearts that hear beyond the noise,

In souls not rushed by time’s tune.

What is meant for me, will meet me —

Not a breath too soon, nor a sigh too late.

I trust the timing, I trust the pace,

For even stillness writes fate.

So I create, I share, I let go.

I am seen. I am enough.

And when my words are ready —

They will find the ones who need them most.