Whirled

Some for the deer
and some for the mice
and some for the soil
and some will rise,
and you never know which few will rise
when you throw your seed to the wind.

When barren days
become barren years
and the deer have gone
and the mice have fled
and you spend your life
out all the same
and you throw your seed to the wind

Then the rain comes down
and the earth is green
and the seeds all rise
and they fight for light
and they tear each other down like flame
and the ruin the soil that made them

Some for the deer
and some for the mice
and some for the soil
that gave them life
and you never really know the price
when you sow the wind with promise