The Soil's Chorus

We are the soil of the forest's floor

on which you tramp and play and feed
and into which you drop your seed.

We are of you - from you we're made;

from us grow tree and flower and fern.
From us you come; to us, return.

We are the rocks, the base of the earth,

which by the ice is broken to be
the food which nourishes each tree.

We are the trees, grown ancient and weak.

Now fallen and dead and suffering loss,
we are broken to feed the rose and the moss.

We are the waters, the gift from heaven

which binds and carries the nutrient
that to each leaf and flower is sent.

We are the roots and filaments

which wrap that life the ancients saw
and, from the past, the future draw.

In us the worms and ants will play

to turn and churn and knead the bread
that from ourselves may all be fed.

For us, a blessing exquisite.

We can, we must, we do believe:
our substance we give, our life we receive.

probably 1984
June, 1999