Poem reflecting on the conversation with Natasha Zimmerman in Episode 125.
Abiding awe, you say.
Those words speak to me of patience.
Of planting deep into dark soil,
grateful for the sun’s warmth.
Of watching, hoping for rain.
Then watching miracles,
as the smallest of seeds rise.
From hard casings to soft growth.
From death into life.
Transformed from within.
What might these curated conversations reveal
as we scratch beneath the hard surface,
of repetitive answers to the simple
yet profound, “how are you”?
Getting past that first hard layer
to the rich places where roots can grow.
What seeds might be planted if we
come together with an attitude
soaked in vulnerability, and gratitude.
What might such seeds yield as a harvest?
Let’s plant and see.
