Seeds
Today I am thinking about seeds. As a gardener, vegetables begin as simple seeds. As an author, writing ideas begin as kernels and either blossom into successful work or fail to grow into a completed piece. In both instances, one must have the foresight to recognize what is within the seed. Just as a gardener plans her plot, an author sees not only the night sky but a vision beyond. [above poem published on Cold Moon Journal 5/26/23] But for either, the hard work must be done. The gardener tills the soil and plants the seeds, waters, and weeds. An author must be ever alert for inspiration, jot thoughts in an omnipresent pocket notebook, and sit for hours and days on end, writing on paper or inputting line after line in a word processing program. This summer has been incredibly hot and dry. Despite nurture and watering, some plants have failed to thrive, other hardier specimens are prolific producers. Despite buzzing bees, neither my zucchini nor squash have fruited. As an author, I mus...
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