A seed on cement will not grow.

Shade or shine, rain or wine,

A seed on cement will not grow.

One can give of their soul with a shovel and hoe,

Draw a hole on sidewalk with a brown piece of chalk

But a seed on cement will not grow.

 

Before we encourage our thoughts,

Or a voice shuffles through our lips,

A hesitation persists:

If we share our seeds with another

Will the stranger scatter them so,

That they manage to flourish and grow?

Or will they but linger,

And fall through the fingers.

A seed on cement will not grow.

 

Words to say but choose not to hear.

Would it help to step a bit nearer?

Eyes take on a glossy glaze,

Glance over this shoulder as if in a haze,

Their focus is distant,

Replies are consistent.

A seed on cement will not grow.

 

Venture elsewhere

Embrace that release

Instead plant those seeds

Where the roots can increase.

Encounter a dear fellow

Who lacks the listening gene?

Advice to heed, Advice to heed

Write for simple sanity.

Perhaps your thoughts are occupied

And they run in a circular motion.

Whether a concept or light bulb,

Scheme or emotion,

Jot the thought with manners or not,

And inspire with anonymous commotion.

 

Ponder this peace for a moment,

If you do, you might greet some bliss.

A paper and pen

Are indeed a gift.