A sower went out to sow seed,

(Okay, I’m not actually a sower, and technically I was just feeding the birds on my windowsill, but I did have to open the windows and fill the little trays I glued to the ledge, with bird seed).

And some of the seed fell along the way,

(It actually fell into the plants I sit on my windowsill each morning, and some onto my window ledge).

And the birds of the air,

(Well, I mean the dust rag swept the seeds off the windowsill and, needless to say, they never sprouted. The seed that fell in my plants, however, quickly sprouted up and confused me—was that a new orchid suddenly sprouting up like a blade of grass? But it had no strong root I discovered in yanking it out, and so it perished).

Some of it fell on rocky soil,

(What I mean is, it just kind of spilled over every time the birds sat in it, or decided to pitch it away in a kind of robotic-like pecking ritual, or when the rains came…).

It sprouted up quickly,

(No, really what it did was bounce off the neighbor on the first floor’s ledge where some of it apparently wedged their windows shut. Other seed rolled onto the rocky ground where a chipmunk waited with bated breath and arms outstretched to the heavens, and that was the end of that).

Some of it fell among the thorns, and it sprouted up and got choked by the weeds,

(Pigeons, pigeons found those ones, actually, which is how I ended up getting a message from one of my neighbors that I better stop feeding the birds before someone reports me to the manager).

And the worries and cares of having my little feathered friend operation shut down, choked out my growing oasis in sky,

(The world of lush green treetops that stares in at me from the other side. Where little songbirds flit to and fro from branch to window ledge, chirping and making melody in their hearts, and mourning doves coo in the cool of the morning and just before bed, while pigeons parade around raining on my good little thing going on).

But some of it fell on good soil,

(I mean, it went right in the dish, where it brought hours of nourishment and joy to nests full of burgeoning bird families). At least for this summer.

Some bursting 100 fold, some 60, and some 30; a veritable fanciful panoramic window wildlife sanctuary in vibrant living colour, for my viewing pleasure.

And it all has me considering this: Sometimes sowing seed is messy. Sometimes it inconveniences some people. Sometimes it ruffles some feathers. But it’s a downright joy to watch it multiply with life and praise where it’s most appreciated. ❤️