‘What is this world but a seed of desire
some dream-bent farmer sowed in a field
the end of winter, waiting to be getting on
with business of timothy and clover?’
—Abigail Carroll, ‘Spring Forward’
God is a dream-bent farmer sowing the seed of desire. Time leaves us this task. It is time’s gift to separate the initial moment from the consummation. Without time there is no desire, only undifferentiated light. Desire provides the space for shadow, heartbreak, longing, and treachery. But its the elation I feel — the wonder of finding a place at all where I can be safely revealed, received.
I desire much and muchly.