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This world is a field where many things grow, good seed and bad are scattered to and fro.

This world is a field where many things grow,
Good seed and bad are scattered to and fro.
On the same fertile ground mixed seed may be thrown,
Though the worth of the plant can't be instantly known.
Both seeds will take root in the richness of soil,
Both are tended with care and the hardest of toil.
Many of the plants will mature to be wheat,
But other young sprouts are plants of deceit.
As they mature their natures will show,
Yet the Farmer allows both plants to grow.
He waters and tends all plants the same
For the just and the unjust will both receive rain.
Time performs its work, the best grains appear,
Wisdom tells the Farmer that harvest is near.
The laborers are sent forth, not to gather wheat
For the Farmer instructs, "First the tares of deceit.
They've shared the best care, now payment's a must.
Sever the wicked ones from among the just."
The tares are destroyed, burned in great heat,
Now it is time to gather in the wheat.
With care and devotion the laborers begin
To harvest the wheat and bring it to Him.
The Farmer, with love, inspects his precious yield,
Receiving joy from the knowledge his storehouse is filled.
There's a lesson to be learned from the wheat and the tares,
The bounties of His mercy both the good and bad share.
Both have a season of plenty and gain,
Both feel the joy of the latter rain,
But the difference between them is night and day
For one will live forever and the other pass away.