I sow a seed of Love and anxiously look for it to grow and become a plant. She grows and branches out, reaching toward the sky of hope, roots sinking deeper into my mind. As it flourishes, I realize that the seed’s journey mirrors my life itself.
Growth of my seed of love is not instantaneous; it requires patience, care, and resilience. The seed of love breaks through the soil of hardships pierced in darkness, just as we often emerge from our struggles. Its roots seek nourishment of care in the unseen depths, teaching us that true strength often comes from within.
Her branches, spreading in all directions, remind me of the ambitions that we have in life—some sturdy and firm, others fragile and tentative. Each branch carries leaves of sorrows, some thriving, others falling away with the seasons. And yet, the tree remains steadfast, understanding that loss is part of the cycle, clearing the way for new beginnings.
As I watch this once-small seed transform, I realize that growth is not a race but a rhythm, a dance between patience and surrender. She embraces many seasons—of blossoming, shedding, resting, and blooming again.
In nurturing my seed of love, I’ve learned to nurture myself. The plant’s quiet persistence whispers a profound truth: life is not just about reaching upward but also about grounding ourselves, finding balance, and being open to the ever-changing winds. I never knew that all along, it was looking at the sun, and stretching toward him as if she believed she could one day reach him. Her every leaf and branch leaned toward his warmth, her whole being devoted to his distant glow. She never saw me, the one tending to her, watering her roots, enriching her soil, and protecting her from harm.
At first, I felt invisible, unacknowledged. But as I watched her unwavering devotion to the sun, I began to understand. She wasn’t ignoring me; she was following the call of something greater, something that gave her purpose. She was chasing the light, just as I had been drawn to nurture her.
It dawned on me then: love does not always demand recognition. The act of giving, of caring, is its own reward. My role was not to be the center of her world but to be her unseen support, the silent hand that enables her to grow toward her dreams.
The sun, distant and unattainable, is her aspiration. I, close and constant, am her foundation. Together, we form a quiet symphony of life—she reaching for the sky, and I rooting her to the earth. Perhaps this is the truest form of love: to give without expectation, to understand without needing to be understood, and to find joy in watching another flourish.
Dr.Sreedhar Saraswathy