Musings from a Fruitful Place

Did I ever tell you – reader – where the line “Musings from a Fruitful Place”
came from? I was thinking – considering the dampness – swampy terrain of my
inner life. It felt – the day this
thought came – like a musty old cellar.
Then I remembered my Grandmother’s cellar on the plans of North Dakota.
It was full of harvested vegetables – differing in each season.
It smelled like damp earth mixed with the pungent aromas of the
cellar’s guests.
It was a very fruitful place.
What had been toiled over and harvested was in a hidden place.
You needed an oil lamp to see your way down.
So – here’s the picture – homily if you will…
There is much harvested and stored in what I sometimes think of
the dank and empty dark space of my life but –
Just like Grandmother’s cellar with it’s dark, musty smells –
My cellar – my holding place is full of fruitfulness – many
things stored to be used for
Feeding and
nurture when the time comes.
Hence – “Musings from a Fruitful place.