I am limited.
Finite.
Closed and constrained by many things:
entropy,
the “law” of diminishing returns,
embodiment.

And yet,
I am bounded by abundance.
A world spun out in space
with all it needs for everyone to thrive.
There is more than enough to go around,
if only we could see it so.
If only we would see it so.

And so, these words fall
from open hands.
My small share.
These few seeds cast
in faith and hope and love
into the dirt
to see what grows.
Words sown like those
that spoke forth everything
in a concussion of sound
splitting the silence like an atom
to irradiate the nothing
with all this abundant gratuity
we call
Life.

Words, small as seeds,
sown in good soil
can change everything.
They have before
and will again.

So,
sow generously,
abundantly,
gratuitously!
There will always be more
to give,
to receive.

We sow echoes
that somehow bring new things.