I want to shape the land on which I live, but only if by shaping I love those who come after, and those who came before. Our house, they tell me, was built where the old garden sat. That has always struck me as a beautiful fact, and it’s nice to imagine some mystical blessing rising from the fertile soil beneath the foundation, coursing through our veins and to the tips of our fingers and toes while we sleep, a natal benediction spoken over us by the light of a heavy-lidded moon. I step out of the house come morning, my body a vessel of seed and color and sunlight, broken open by the hands of harvest, to nourish the ground around me, to feed and be fed, then to lie down again in the raised bed, spent, content, tired, hungry, happy. I want to shape the land on which I live, But only if by shaping I love those who come after, and those Who came before. [Previously published in Molehill Vol. 3]
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Photo by Dorien Monnens on Unsplash
Excellent!
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing! ❤️