My brain has always been this way-
Like fertile soil, plant the seed
And it will grow.
Grow with all its might
As vines like tentacles
Weave and wrap their way
Through my very being.
I can feel the seed,
The one that you
Didn't think would grow-
Didn't think the season was right
Or the rain would fall
For the garden of my soul
To drink in. But it did-
The season was right
And I feel it growing.