✨ Inspired by the Creek story of Selu—the first woman who gave corn to the people✨
She came with soft hands
and a basket full of gold—
not the kind men kill for,
but the kind that feeds the soul.
They say she was not born
but woven—
from river reeds,
sun-warmed earth,
and the breath of the Great Mother
just after rain.
Her name was never whispered lightly.
She was Selu—
Corn Woman.
The one who could make the fields rise
with a hum and a handful of prayer.
But the boys grew.
And with their growing came doubt.
They did not trust what they could not tame.
They peeked behind the veil of her ritual—
watched her magic,
called it strange,
called it wrong.
So she knelt,
placed the corn in their hands,
and said:
“This is my body, and it will grow again.
But not from my touch- from yours.
With blood, with sweat, with respect.”
Then she laid herself down
on the dirt that had always loved her,
and from her body
sprouted the first stalk.
We ate her memory for generations.
We plant her name in rows each spring.
We remember her
in every kernel,
every mother’s lullaby,
every woman who gives too much
and asks for nothing but reverence.
Corn is not just a crop.
It is her body—
still feeding the ones
who forgot how to say thank you.