Once upon a delicate time… a tiny seed fell in between the cracks at dawn

A seed grew without light or raindrops… Deep below the surface

hidden from my reach should I try to trim it, tame, or yank it out…

And then…late last night I laughed tickled by the nostalgia of it all…

I am the maker of honey and precious jewel out of mud, I turn heartaches into fuel…

Hmm…

Perhaps this one will become a poem, a song or a new dance move…

Yes once upon a delicate time you were a home I longed for.

Nevertheless home I have become my own…

And now with my hand wrapped around the seed I wonder, should I let it burn or let it be by gone?