‘Cultivate’ by Loani Falconer

Standing here on the edge of today my eyes scan across the field before me. The first rays of sun begin to stretch out long, reaching beams of light. The air is still, the early morning bird calls welcome the new dawn. A simple fence marks out the boundaries of this space.

Selected memories lingering in my mind of a yesterday I can not return to, sorted into jagged piles, some held close, some pushed far away. And tomorrow’s hopes and dreams just out of reach.

I turn towards the sound of your voice. I knew you’d meet me here. You always come. Your warm smile adds its welcome to this day.  Drawing near to you my companion, I seek your wonderful counsel.

Watchful searching eyes scan the ground. I wonder what you are looking for? I wonder what you see? Bending down you scrape off a layer of debris and scoop up a handful of soil. Careful examination reveals just what is needed to bring forth flourishing.

Then there on the wind, caught in a breeze, an invitation like a whisper, so I lean in and listen paying close attention. Your wisdom is great.

Setting aside the useful tools of recent days, you pause and select something new. It feels different in my hands. But layers of trust like an unbreakable tether have formed from paths we’ve walked, so I graciously receive this gift and attend to the earth before me.

Tools of cultivation upset the familiar exterior and calve purposefully below the surface. At just the right depth, opening, turning, realigning. Here we break ground. Exposed vulnerability causes hesitation but as my gaze meets yours the things of this world grow dim and I feel the firmness of the solid rock beneath my feet rise as a holy determination ushers forth action.

Each careful step, I follow, you lead. Exquisite furrows begin to emerge, corrugated rows extending out,  previously unseen.  Revealing what lies beneath. Creating pathways for new growth and new life. Nutrients rise, buried remnants of old crops and weeds begin to decay. Patiently we wait as the warmth of the sun dries out the trenches.

Together we sift and plant out this field sowing seeds into the freshly tilled soil, each in their own quadrant perfect for optimal growth. Visions of what’s yet to come spring forth in my mind and anticipation of gathering the harvest mingles with playful joy.

Searching roots find rewards of refreshing rain deposited from above, and soon brave new shoots reach out towards the light. Side by side we sit in the shade of the silos keeping watch over the field. Your nearness brings comfort and settles my fears. Like a lamp to my path you show me your ways. I too find the rewards of refreshing rain deposited from above seeping into the roots of my soul.

Unhurried, time gently moves along. Sculpting, strengthening, expanding, healing, refining, ripening, maturing. Pages turn as new chapters begin to form, adding to the chronicles of this age.

At the appointed time threshing releases captive seeds.

And grinding instruments of perfect pressure transform the grain.

Windows open wide allow the aroma of freshly baked bread to waft over the land drawing in those around for a feast of celebration.

Dusty boots, weathered hands, soft hearts, weary smiles.

Such a long way from where we began.

Well done, good and faithful servant.

Standing here on the edge of today, as the sun disappears below the horizon, thankful praise flows out over the dusky fields.

Then on the wind, caught in a breeze, an invitation like a whisper, so I lean in and listen paying close attention. Yes, your counsel is wonderful and your wisdom is great.