It can live inside us, buried deep in the depths of our soul, that seed that resides within us all. Covered by the richness of our positive characteristics. Hidden. Unknown.
Then, something outside ourselves provides a spark, fertilizing what has been buried within. A thoughtless word. An unkind act. Unfairness. Injustice. Grief. Pain.
And what has been hidden begins to germinate. Imperceptible at first, it begins to draw nutrients away from the good in our lives. Feeding on our peace. Our love. Our positive outlook. Sucking the joy and wonder. Leaving only the dregs of misunderstanding.
In the moist darkness, the seed splits its skin, sending tentative shoots out into the soil around it. Most shoots reach out and down, searching for more nourishment. Soaking in the energy from our emotions. Transforming them into power to sustain this new life within us.
One lone shoot pushes upward. Thin. Pale. Tentative. Feeling its way to the surface. Pushing through the crust of our civilized behavior. In its delicate early stages, it can be stepped on. Crushed by the weight of outside experiences. Or it can be left alone to flourish. Fed by a glowing sun of provocation. Watered by tears of injustice.
It grows larger. Stronger. Spreading its tentacles across the surface of our lives. Becoming the aspect of our souls other see first, and perceive as who and what we are. Strangling all other characteristics that defined us, as this new vine chokes out our former selves. Flowering, sending seedlings into other hearts and minds, until what we are becomes what we create. Hatred as far as the eye can see.
How do we recover what had been before? How do we root out this evil that consumes us? Who will wield the scythe of love, cutting away the thorny branches of hatred, reaching deep into the darkness of our souls to pull out the roots of hurt?
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