In the fruits of action, hidden are seeds

They hold a measure, of our long forgotten deeds

Our secret motives grow like a thorny vine

Shredding innocence which keeps us benign

The journey to the soul isn’t easy or free

The seed vault we carry holds the key

It takes lifetimes to sow and reap

But wisdom’s the match that can burn the heap

The roots of desire are many

Searching for a perennial source of plenty

In the world, there is a famine of bliss

Without nourishment, the soul is in a state of remiss

The drops of desire may evaporate

Only to regroup as clouds that wait

To shower seeds waiting to take

Once they sprout, their thirst is hard to slake