A value this small

On occasion doubt sends  
A sway so strong, so griping 
Like the dust storms of the Sahara  


To envisage a passage through  
Seems, close to the unthinkable  
And madness line a front row  


So it came to be, that all was lost 
And funeral processions as last rites 
Held the last dignity in honour to have 


But you see, seeds planted in the earth 
Takes a while to germinate, their way of doing things 
To hold court, naturally to announce their credential


And naturally, passers by unaware of seeds planted 
Would not no miracles  set to emerge to form  
Do not place a value this small on another 

Not before spring shows its window 
And a new day is upon us again 
Some take just this while