a tiny seed
lay hidden
in each heart.
we walked
the old hurt
we knew too well.
then light
touched the edge
of our seeing.
i turned.
the soil
inside
softened.
the seed
rose.
what awakened
in me
rose quietly
in you.
© 2025 Corvalya
Reflection
In every heart there is a tiny seed —
small enough to be forgotten,
yet strong enough to change the ground beneath our feet.
The parable calls it the mustard seed,
the smallest of all seeds,
the one that grows into shelter for many.
Not because of its size,
but because the soil receives it.
Some soil is hardened by old hurt —
paths we have walked for years,
where nothing new seems able to take root.
Other soil softens the moment light touches it,
opening itself to possibility,
to change,
to life.
And this, too, is part of the mystery:
the softening of one heart
can become the fertile ground for another.
The quiet turning of a single life
can loosen the old, barren soil
we have carried within us.
What awakens in one
can stir the hidden seed in another
without a word being spoken.
This is how growth begins —
not in certainty,
not in understanding,
but in the smallest turning toward light.
A shift so gentle we may not notice it,
and yet it changes everything.
The mustard seed teaches us
that transformation is rarely grand.
It begins with softening.
It begins with rising.
And often, it begins in one heart
so another can rise beside it.
I invite you to read the poem again.