The Mustard Seed Poem by Kumolu S. Ayowale

Why thy mustard seed,
Never grow on the field,
Which thy maker plants,
ev'n at thy infant.
when man sleeps,
cometh his foes to deep,
Shafts into his plants,
Goes he then to his part.
To this asserts drive,
to thy reason give?
Which thee made slow,
To thy mustard grow.
What purpose thou hath,
to take veil unto my path.
A covering thou too made,
shielding it with a shade.
Let loose to thy soul,
that thy seed may grow.
let loose to thy gate,
for thou art my fate.
For my interest be,
to thy passion see.