Working the Land

The estate of my spreading life has been plowed over many times. Plantations have withered and been replanted, grain fields have turned to dust, have laid fallow for years yet now the corn is high and golden again, trees felled and burnt now grow tall. Mind body and spirit maps have had to be redrawn, shorelines and boundaries moved. However now I can walk my mind back into past times and circle all the seasons of my existence at once. Barn doors are wide open to tomorrow lands, My earth is still rich and good, my store runneth over. I am not the master here, just a worker following a tilling, plowing, and seeding Owner; I am charged only to oversee this landscape of me. When this soil I have worked at last is blown away on the winds of time a plantation of plenty will be reflected in the mirror of eternity, and I will be a servant of my most High Self at home once more in my Master's mansion.