The Miracle of Harvest

I sat in a trance

Waited till my thoughts were done

And quickly, reached for my craft

These words are not mine

They are from a place far from here

I hope you hear them

The way I did

The Seed

Photo by Milada Vigerova on Unsplash

You are there, and a seed forms in your mind. You don’t know where it came from. Its presence there makes you uncomfortable. You want to talk about it and write it down. You dream about it as it comes in and out of focus of your mind’s eye. You record it, and put it in a jar in your mind so you don’t lose it. You, more than any other, know that a seed vanishes in the heart no sooner than it forms unless it is brought to life. As you settle with the thought of turning this mind-seed into something that can be touched and held, that overwhelming joy is followed quickly by the fear of what lies ahead.

The Farm

Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash

As the seed in your mind is turned over in thought, and relentless faith that calls what is not as though it were, you open your hands and they are there. Seed of the mind turned see in hand. For the first…