A grain of wheat was buried in soil
Even in death, for life it would toil,
Eventually its thirst by water quenched
It sprouted roots which to soil clenched
And then a stem that upward grew
Its way out of soil, it somehow knew;
Until finally it burst through the ground
And gladly found light all around;
And in the light it grew tall
Until it was just before fall
When pregnant upon its seat
Gave birth and life to many a wheat.
Until next year from the farmer's spoil
New grain of wheat was buried in soil.

To be truly alive, we must first die
Buried in our soil, trusting we lie
Until our spiritual thirst is quenched by fire
Self-realization our prime desire;
Instinctively grow and ground our root
The divine light, our sole pursuit,
Naturally grow, burst through the ground
Constantly in wisdom ourselves surround.
And in light and love grow and grow
Until the time we instinctively know,
Then inspired, pregnant with passion
Betterment of life, with compassion.
Touch many lives until one will try
To truly live, and first will die.

© Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 25, 1997