The Farm: A reflection of death
With winter thawing and spring soon seeping all over me I dug into the earth.
Gently removing grasses & greeting worms, telling them all the tales of what I had dreamed for so long, a dream of what was to come.
I wept into the ground as the land transformed. Broad-fork became my closest friend. Each morning by body rose different, new, stepping into messy boots eyeing the green 5 foot fork stuck in a path that matched the etchings and ramblings of my past winters pages. Lines carved out as sweat poured down my back, day in, day out. Wheel barrows of soil, back and forth. Taking apart mountains in hours, shifting into a landscape breath held and waiting.
The birds watched as I tucked in seed and seedlings, sweet green beings into the warm dark earth with prayer and hope and tears and love. I worked so hard I disappeared from any other part of this world.
The spring grew into summer and blossoms unfurled, the bees whispered to butterflies and the energetic chorus was rapture over my soul. Every day the world beneath my feet, the world outside my door changed dramatically. I could get lost in every moment, from before the sun would rise until late summer star kissed skies.
Swept away softly and sometimes not so much so, hearing the messages of my heart so clear. The farm. The garden. The space where wild could reside.
A reflection of death, I fell in love with the breath taking beauty and holy truth of impermanence. I shed so many layers, my life shifted quicker than I could see, spinning into a free fall of trust, a guided deep ancient knowing. The flowers and herbs told me more than I bargained for and made my path ahead clear, I do not know which way it will wind, but I see the stones and moss beneath my feet and know I am home.
I look forward to sharing the way this urban farm expands into evolution. Gratitude to all who held me in sacred spaces as I carved new life from dirt and bone. Grace and compassion to all who led me here. Love to you all.
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