The Unseen Power of Words

“You know,” my friend said, leaning closer, “Words are like seeds.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. We were sitting on the patio, the sun dipping below the horizon. My friend had a way of drawing you in, making you forget the world beyond.

“Seeds?” I echoed.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Imagine a man, restless and burdened. He had spread a rumour, a careless thing. Harmless, he thought.”

“And then?” I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued.

“He regretted it,” my friend continued after a brief pause. “Regret gnawed at him like a hungry bird. So, he sought advice from a wise man who gave him an odd task.”

“What exactly?” I asked.

“He instructed the man to buy a bag of seeds, stand in an open field, and scatter them into the wind.”

“A week passed, and he returned to the wise man.”

“And what did he say?” I asked, the anticipation almost tangible.

“Pick up every single seed,” my friend replied.

“Of course, the man protested. The seeds were scattered everywhere. Some of them had even sprouted.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I answered.

“The wise man explained that when we spread rumours, the damage goes far and wide, just like those seeds. And once it’s done, we can never fully take it back.”

“And the man?” I pressed, my voice barely a whisper.

“He understood,” my friend whispered. “He carried that lesson with him forever. It was a reminder that once spoken, words can never be completely undone.”

„Words are like seeds,“ I repeated softly, understanding now the profound truth in that simple phrase.

As night fell around us, I couldn’t help but think of all the words I’d carelessly scattered throughout my life. How many had taken root? How many had grown into something I never intended?

In the gentle breeze, I made a silent promise to myself: to plant my words with care from that day forward, nurturing only those that would bloom into kindness and truth