Life is full of wonders for wanderers. Everything created into this world has a meaning bore into its very creation. At the core of each and all of us lie our essence - what makes us who, what we are and how or why we are us not him, not her nor it. Us.
Visualise a tree now. A young tree. A baby tree. What do they call it these days? Ah, seedlings I think if my memory permits. Yes, seedlings. When you see a seed, what does it mean to you?
Just a seed, no?
I'm afraid so too...
But what if that seed would grow into a fruit-bearing tree one day. And in your most desperate hour of desperation, left to bleed and die and decay and rot, the fruit from the tree born from that seed becomes your only salvation? No, not even the fruit! The leaves! One leaf from the hundreds it has, plucked from the shoots by winds too rough, to sway in the preceeding winds. Swaying back and forth as if tied to a pendulum of fate to land on your gaping mouth which a second ago was thrown ajar by suffocating lungs to catch whatever air is left in the thick air.
And from that slimmest of chances, you survived for just one more day. And just like that a meaningless seed has become one last meaningful day of your life.
So, friends, treassure the seeds you see around you. You never know what meaning they can bring into your days in this world and the Hereafter.