Unless a grain of wheat falls

A grain.

Just one,
small, non-descript,cupped
in my hand.

Should I,
must I
hold it there,
preserved in sterile security?

Or is it best to let it go
to watch it slip
between my fingers,fall
to earth
and pass from sight,
too small to garner
amid dirt and dust?

Not worth the effort.

Walk away.

Forget it.

But one day,
Hungry,
I will eat the bread
grown from the harvest of
this single
grain
and eating
find
my hunger
stemmed
alway.