Inspiration I love the earth. I love working with her; there is something very grounding about dirt under your fingernails, I can manage that even while wearing gloves, and mud on the soles of your shoes. Recently we had a lovely, refreshing, summer afternoon thunderstorm followed by some soaking rain. The earth was refreshed and the soil smelt sweet; perfect for digging. Often when I work in the garden I am on my knees, digging, planting, weeding. Lots of folk are prayed for at this time, there is thanksgiving and there is a sadness for the unregulated taking and abuse we inflict on the earth. This poem is for the earth, our responsibility to give something back and to respect her as a living organism.
The Theme being explored is creation and nature.
Kneel to Dig.
When I kneel to dig in the dirt,
It seems the earth reaches out and I can feel her hurt,
I sense her pain and know she wants to heal,
Repair, regrow, all her parts that have been burnt.
She knows she has been used and abused,
Demanded to yield; that she give even from a barren field,
Taken for granted again and again; she tries in vain to cover her pain,
But knows neither toil nor rain will make her well again.
Not cared for- nor treated as living and precious,
Drenched in poisons to make her produce,
As if that were her only use - she knows she is under attack,
But she is bankrupt - unable to fight back.
From the earth we have taken her best,
Refusing to see her beauty or give her rest,
Drowned her in foul chemicals,
Stripped her fertility - but demanded she produce.
Oh, how short sighted and arrogant can man be?
To kill the soil that grows our food,
To feed us poisons and ruin good health,
All for the return of short lived wealth.
So, when I kneel to dig where soil and toiler intersect,
I dig to return something to herself- some rich organic matter,
I dig to overcome her grievous neglect,
I dig to give her some long overdue respect.
We work together and we heal each other,
Grounded in sweet smelling earth-
Sacred dust that gave us birth,
All of humanity and the land,
Held in one uniting Mighty Hand.
Poetry by Estelle M Deshon.ⓒ
Way leads onto Way 