Huge vision tiny hands and "whats my role in all of this?"

I am searching for my culture

I know she’s there

in the briers of ancient lanes

and skylarks call.

Through the patterns of my western mind

other voices croon and whisper

sometimes shout

that seed isn’t lost just so long not tended

but indestructible and awaiting

the basket longs to be re plaited to hold us all

as kith and kin

Modern experience leaves hearts breaking in the lacking

Thirsty souls forgetting how to bless the water that can sustain us

and make all things grow anew

The potential of our incarnate human hearts and minds

to vision and affect the changes

to know we can support this creation

that is always creating

in ways that dive beneath the words and endless doing

and realise what it means “when two are gathered in my name”

reclaim

From traditions that sought to separate

reunite us with belonging

together

even if we are only the earliest cradles of precious shoots from ancient seeds

not able to understand the bigger view

I fear losing myself to the hopelessness

the hugeness of the vision and the need

Of my tiny hands

and shortness of this life

But the next step feels clear as I hold this grain of corn

watered with a tear of grief

Holding all it knows.

Jill - june 2020