Corn is an amazing gift from Creator. It goes back with us in time and has saved humanity many times from starvation. When you think of corn you think of white or yellow, maybe sweet corn eaten on a hot summer day drenched in butter. I think of blues, reds and many other colors. These are the colors of corn for the Native peoples. Yes there are whites and yellows in these ancient seeds, but the deep colors of greens, blues, reds, burgundies, rusts, every color you can imagine—even purple.
So this week we had a gathering of people who carry corn. Elders. People who protect the corn and who would maybe even protect it with their lives. Corn, you see, is sacred. It is more than food. It is Medicine, food, spiritual connection—life. To eat these amazing corns is to experience flavor like nothing you can imagine. Full, sweet, robust, alive. So different than store bought corn.
So with this gathering the corn came to my farm. Corn you do not see in catalogs, gifts from Native elders, passed around to hands that lovingly will hold it and care for it. Passing it along to others who have been called to the corn. These seeds are not sold. They are passed, hand from hand, heart to heart with hope in every kernel. It was amazing. You could not walk for all the corn on my floor. Passing, sharing, telling the histories, the stories of where they came from. The trust that was passed on. No money. When all had left there were kernels who had dropped on the floor, forgotten under couches and chairs. I gathered them all. Sacred and rare. Into a prayer basket to hold that ongoing prayer for the corn. To hold it and then plant them all together in Spring so that whatever comes from it gives birth.
The Corn fed our hearts and fed our bellies in the form of blue cornbread—baked in love and shared. But more than anything it fed our souls, our paths on this journey that we do not always understand. The corn and other ancient seeds feeding us, pulling us along, showing us a path, whispering to our hearts.
And gratitude. Tons of gratitude from the hearts of all peoples that the corn is still alive and making its way to the right hands. Silently moving, out of bondage into love and gratitude. Corn is sacred. It is love and hope and the food for all generations. It is blessings. May the corn keep moving, kept safe but shared for all of those that are hungry in both their bellies and their souls. Wado!