Some fell on the edge of the path.
Some fell on rock.
How can we avoid all wrath.
Emerge from our constant lock.

Will we be cast into the thorns.
Or onto rich soil.
Held between pride’s thorns.
Or made forever whole.

Is our faith weak.
Or entangled by care.
Continuing evermore to seek.
Nothing ever clear.

We pray to be cast not just by the sower’s gait.
But hope that we may be masters of our own fate.

—-+++—-

The path is narrow
Our fate is cast randomly
Can we control it

—-+++—-

See Luke 8: 4-15