I’m in love with digging
The slice of the shovel blade
The crunch and rattle going down
I love how muscles lift and toss
Yellow-brown dirt, thick with clay
How the pile grows
Beside the hole
How the crisp wind swings branches
How white petals swirl
Land on my hat.
It’s deep enough, he says.
No, I say, and press the shovel hard
Wider and deeper
Fill the hole with rich dark soil chunks
From yellow bags
Break them soft and smooth
Set the lilac bush into the future.
Inhale, and plant hope.
Photo by Akil Mazumder on Pexels.com
– a tribute to John Lewis and teachers who lead
The blessing is in the seed.
I have known the planting of seeds—
seeds of song, seeds of poems, seeds of the work of words.
The blessing is let me show you.
The seed is now you do it.
The blessing is you have learned.
The seed is now teach another.
I have known the planting of seeds—
seeds of love, seeds of kindness, seeds of the comfort of words.
The blessing is let me hold you.
The seed is now hold another.
The blessing is I see you.
The seed is to listen.
The blessing is in the truth.
The seed is yours to tell.
7-30-20
*first line from Elegy in Joy by Muriel Rukeyser
Tangled Magic 