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Worm Moon
I buried myself all over the garden but the pieces only sprouted into new riddles.
Franny Choi
What if burying was planting? What if creativity was planting? What if imagination was planting? What if writing was planting? And what if we could harvest crops like riddles or ideas or art or curiosity?
I wonder.
What if the I am or the not yet or the as if is a series of burials, of letting gos, more like planting than anything else. What if our days are simply planting and harvesting and planting again and harvesting again? What if sowing and reaping become a rhythm for riddles and questions and wonder? What if life moved in that rhythm?
Knowing we are all on a planting journey, we would be less likely to destroy. We would we been more concerned with past, present, and future generations. We would be softer and more forgiving. We would be kinder and committed to connecting with one another.
About Katie
Born in Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.