Cold and sweet on a summer day,
juice trickling down my chin,
watermelon is still a treat after
all these years. I look at the
mound of seeds from just one
melon and see the potential acres
of watermelons, each one filled
with seeds. What a perfect metaphor
for the value of each of us.
I plant a seed of kindness, one
tiny seed here, one there. Each
takes hold and produces exponentially
long after I’ve gone, filling the
world with compassion until the
Earth is a forest of love.