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Too long I searched beneath the evidence                                              For happy-ever-after increments;

Then look round Problem’s mountains,                                                    But to see–God watching me!

(Hoping I’d quiet down, so He could transfuse my mind.)

“Plant the mustard see,” He urged.                                                       “Why hold it in your hand?

It will dissolve this mountain                                                                     For it holds the nucleus of Life.”

Not of created matter, like this crumbling mound,                                      It bears the whole imprint of all that will come forth.

The seed is Self of things unmanifest.                                                       It is the smallest Essence and the Fire

Which given birth, how greatly grows and spreads–                              But give it the chance to bring what you desire.