consider the corn

i consider the corn:
it bends and it bows

planted in rows
where the farmer has sown

each sturdy stalk sprouts on its own --
it does not look and bemoan
where the farmer has thrown-

it takes, good or not, what its given
and makes the best of it: its driven;

death is an option, but its choice is to grow
oh consider the corn! it grows where it's sown!

i gazed long at the field and had a lesson in thought:
i must grow where i'm planted, no matter the plot --

be it dry or wet, be it cloudly --
beaten by wind, eaten by rot --
-- forgotten or not --
think!

what if.... i grow roots in my plot ?

oh, the seed of my life was sown before time
by the toss of a hand
so much bigger than mine

i consider this hand that placed me with care --
and know it devined
the spot and the time, the rain and the shine
of my planting here --