Faded, crumpled, shriveled seeds which now seem dead, will soon, under ‘June’s magic kiss,’ burst forth into beautiful flowers and gardens. In the last line the poet has us imagine how we are able to hold in our hand the seeds that could grow a whole forest– ‘in my hand a forest lies asleep.’ The miracle of creation is repeated every Spring, as life arises out of death.
THE SEED SHOP by Muriel Stuart (1885-1967)
Here, in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shriveled, scentless, dry–
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.
Dead that shall quicken at the call of Spring,
Sleepers to stir beneath June’s magic kiss,
Though birds pass over, unremembering,
And no bee suck here roses that were his.
In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams,
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century’s streams,
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.
Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells a million trees leap;
Here I can grow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.
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I Corinthians 15:35-38 — But someone may ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?” How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives its own body.
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The whole creation speaks Thy praise… that so our soul rises out of its mortal weariness unto Thee, helped upward by the things Thou hast made, and passing beyond them unto Thee who hast wonderfully made them: and there refreshment is and strength unfailing. –St. Augustine
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THE TIGER by William Blake
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors grasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make Thee?
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
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Genesis 1:11, 12 — Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so… And God saw that it was good.
Genesis 1:31… 2:1 — God saw all that he had made, and it was very good… Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array.
Job 37:14 — …Stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God.
Revelation 4:11 — You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.
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Almighty God, we thank you for making the earth fruitful, so that it might produce what is needed for life. Bless those who work in the fields; give us seasonable weather; and grant that we may all share in the fruits of the earth, rejoicing in your goodness. Amen.
—Book of Common Prayer
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