Let the gentle bush dig its root deep and spread upward to split

Hear now the words of Carl Sandburg, who clothed truth in the garments of poetry: “Let the gentle bush dig its root deep and spread upward to split one boulder.” This is no idle image, but a vision of the secret power within gentleness and perseverance. A bush, tender and fragile to the eye, is no match for a boulder of stone in a single moment. Yet over seasons uncounted, its roots, unseen and patient, press and grow until the rock itself yields. Thus the poet reminds us that what is soft may overcome what is hard, that what is quiet may triumph over what is immovable.

In these words, we hear an echo of nature’s eternal lesson: strength lies not always in force, but in persistence. The gentle bush does not rage against the rock, nor does it break itself with sudden effort. It simply roots itself deeper, drinks of the earth, and rises upward with steady faith. In time, the stone—though mighty, though unmoving—cracks. So, too, in life, the obstacles before us seem unyielding, yet with patience, steadfastness, and growth, even the greatest barriers may be overcome.

Consider the story of Mahatma Gandhi, who, armed not with swords but with the power of nonviolence, faced the boulder of empire. The British crown was vast, adorned with fleets and armies, while Gandhi appeared as nothing more than a gentle bush, clothed in simple cloth, walking barefoot upon the earth. Yet his roots ran deep—deep into the soil of truth, justice, and moral courage. Year after year, his patience pressed upon the stone of oppression, until the empire itself fractured, and freedom sprang forth for his people. Thus was the boulder split by gentleness, persistence, and depth.

History gives us another testament in the life of Nelson Mandela. For twenty-seven years he was bound in prison, hemmed in by the cold stone of apartheid. Yet he did not break in bitterness nor yield to despair. Like the gentle bush, he sent his roots deeper into patience, deeper into vision, deeper into the strength of forgiveness. And when at last the prison doors opened, he rose upward, not as a man of vengeance, but as a leader who shattered the stone of hatred with the quiet force of reconciliation.

From these examples, we see that the words of Sandburg are not only about plants and stones, but about the spirit of humankind. The gentle bush is the heart that endures, the soul that continues to grow though surrounded by hardness. The boulder is every barrier—oppression, despair, injustice, or personal trial—that seems impossible to move. The teaching is this: what is rooted deeply in truth and nourished by patience will, in time, prevail over what seems immovable.

O children of tomorrow, take this lesson into your lives: when you stand before a boulder, do not waste your strength striking it in rage. Instead, deepen your roots—in wisdom, in discipline, in love, in the quiet work of every day. Spread upward in growth, even if your progress seems small. For the seasons are long, and in time, the rock will yield. What appears invincible will be undone by what is steady, faithful, and alive.

Therefore, live as the gentle bush: cultivate patience, grow in silence, and let your strength be the strength of endurance. Do not be deceived by the hardness of obstacles nor discouraged by the slowness of progress. What matters is the direction of your growth and the depth of your roots. For if you persist, the stone shall break, and your life shall testify to the triumph of gentleness over hardness, of life over death, of time over stone.

Thus the poet’s words become prophecy: “Let the gentle bush dig its root deep and spread upward to split one boulder.” Go now, and live as the bush—unhurried, unshaken, and victorious.