Sonnet

Once it is sown it grows into the biggest shrub of all.
And puts out big branches so that birds can shelter in shade.
And we too from the tiniest most unlifelike seed can grow tall.
We do not come from nothing, we are made.

It was dusk here and I was listening to the birds.
The chaffinch and her descending flourish of a song.
The mellow slow clear warble song of the blackbirds.
And the tree sparrow in her hedgerow and her tonal song.

I can look here for ash and sycamore but no mustard tree.
But It is not just large, it is invasive and hard to root out.
Thus like faith despite every setback, it endures to our glee.
This is all so true if only we could figure it out.

My own faith is just a seed but last night I prayed to Mary, fraught.
And I was enveloped in calm sheet and received what I sought.

Haiku

The Mustard tree grows
From just the tiniest seed
Into a great tree