Hitch your plow to a strong horse;
It’s time to go into the fields once again
to do the plodding work of
planting one blessed seed after another.
Blue seeds, purple ones, grey day ones:
all pressed with intent into soil amended
by bits of remaining trash transformed
through alchemy into nutrient.
Treasure the ones you worry will never sprout.
Bury those on your knees deep into the moist
humus of love for your mother and brother;
breathe hot air into the frozen patches.
Stand shoulder to shoulder with others
pressing closer until your arms link and the seeds overwhelm with their bright
blooming towards the light. By all means
do not forget to sing
while you plant, for prayer is like water
in these times.
This work will take bent backs and great
care as each seedling is thinned and pruned so
that not even one throws shade.
Do not waste your heart in worry as seeds crack
and strain against the clotted, dry earth; surely
they will find passage to the light
and their flowers will whisper, “yes”
when you return in the moonlight to harvest.
Beautiful! Thanks – gives me strength and hope
What a gift. Absolutely beautiful. I hope you and your family are well. I think of you fondly. Jane and I some day will still make it out for a visit.
Ken! I would love to have you and Jane for a visit. I will stock pile cigars, red wine and laughter. I think of you both fondly all of the time, too! Thank you for the kind and encouraging words.
It’s amazing. Brilliant. Earth-shaking. Inspiring. I think this may be your best poem ever. Let’s spread it like seeds to the world.