Across the barren soil of imagination are strewn seeds of desire.

They float through the air like translucent orbs, barely noticeable.

Gradually, they land, softly burrowing into the jagged and uneven ground before them.

They are compelled to nestle in,

trusting that as they are swallowed up by the soil somehow this is what they need to grow.

And so they make themselves small, quiet and still,

compelled to sprout in time,

willing to grow slowly with care.

They will face the drought of unworthiness,

resistance as they break through and change the barren land,

impatience as they require much tending before they produce any flowers or fruit,

and fear that they may not survive at all.

The patient gardener knows this.

With an eye on the potential magnificence, beauty, and need for these seeds to flourish,

nurturing instead of forcing.

Waiting joyfully,

the gardener balances hope with knowing,

confident that with proper care, attention, consistency, and flexibility,

in due time these seeds will fully grow into their potential

and from them will come more translucent orbs ready to contribute to the wildest, most beautiful, richest landscape imaginable.