Pruning last year’s growth
To make space for focused energy
And the potential for future abundance
Under unseasonably warm skies
Snip, drop, step
Snip, drop, step
Gather up the fallen parts
Put them in a pile
And feed them through the chipper
So they can nurture future growth
There’s a metaphor in there somewhere.
Everyone is talking about the weird weather…
Offering grunts and nods and shakes of heads about politics…
Speaking in code about the general shape of things.
It all feels rather cumbersome, unwieldy.
What is one to do but grow food, guide our children, educate oneself…
Chop wood, carry water…
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst…
Lean into community, shelter our souls, find joy in simple things…
Imagine the unimaginable and then carry on like everything is just dandy…
Or, at a minimum, hold on to the threads of hope…
Until it reaches our own doorstep?
Our future selves with thank us for today’s work, no matter which way the wind blows.
We are the ones we have been waiting for.
Onward,
M
Chop wood, carry water, etc… yes to all of that. And you’ve reminded me that I need to get out and do some pruning when the latest round of snow clears. 🙂
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