a little boy and his seeds

the little boy
observed the little green seeds
intently for the hundredth time
in his outstretched, taut
little palm
he was pained to see
that they had not
become plants yet again
then he put them back
in the little plastic container
filled with water,
went around running
crazily, crashing into doors
and throwing tantrums
and things at a pace
his parents could neither cope with
nor understand.
then after 20 minutes or so
having spent just a miniscule of his
boundless, fathomless,
bundle of energy
he was back in the empty room
his plump, dexterous fingers
extracting, scooping
the tired seeds out of their sanctuary yet again
he placed them one by one
on his soft palm, slippery with water –
and, again he wondered
why his seeds had not become plants still…