Photo by Gamaliel Masters
We grow a dream seed: on our furthest branches a seed which falls into rich soil. In the night, hid from sight, new growth: were we to see it in the day we would say, "ah yes, I know you." By day, we see it not: by night, dancing feet cast dark sparks new dream seeds. So it is, by night, by day: the great tree grows. We know it not nor need we. Of all the children in the playground: which of us can plant a seed in the morning and not poke at it by noon?