First, the glint became the spark became the seed.
Who knew eyes could still dream?
Second, the seed grew like a weed and crowded out hopes and forgotten dreams.
Who knew resentment ground wheat in paired stones?
Third, the weed, once a seed, was plucked from a garden now littered with debris.
Who knew Uriel would forever bar the gate back home?
Fourth, the weed, now a scrub tree, fights to send roots deep under fault lines.
Who knew seismic energy was just one danger?
Fifth, the scrub tree shades a bloom, yet unformed.
Who knew a scrub tree could foster new life?
Sixth, the scrub tree sheds its leaves to fertilize soil for the new seed.
Who knew the pearl of great price grows only from sacrifice?
Seventh, the scrub tree is chopped and well-seasoned.
Who knew that in dying, life still lights a fire?