I’ve been told it’s time to go out and turn over a new stone. I like rocks and stones. And I was pretty pleased with the way they had been laying. I didn’t really have a desire to go out and roll over stones because someone else thought it was a good idea. But there are a bunch of stones. Maybe there’s something I don’t know about this turning stones over thing. So I went outside to look for this new stone. Walking right past and avoiding all of the old stones. It took some looking -but I found a new stone.
I turned it over.
All I found was moist dirt under it. Dark. Moist dirt.
But apparently this is something. Why else would I be told to turn over a new stone?
What do you do with moist, dark, dirt?
I planted a seed.
From the seed grew a thought.
A picture, a vision, blossomed from the growing thought.
A plan spread out and leafed from the thought.
Action was taken in the shade of the plan.
And no stone will be left unturned while I build