I’m continuing to experiment with the triolet form, so here’s another one. I am posting this poem both here and at my Substack.
The Parable of the Sower
A sower went to sow his seed.
He scattered it, some here, some there.
Some fell on good soil, some on weeds,
So freely did he sow his seed.
The Word is like that. It can feed
All comers, with yet more to spare.
When heaven’s farmer sows his seed,
Some hear it; some just leave it there.
