At Harvest

I originally wrote this to celebrate people that save their seeds, on International Seed Harvest Day, back in 2007.

In praise of self-sufficiency
I once holed-up almost an acre-island of sand and trees.
Many days spent on knees among chickens and rabbits,
trowels and error.

Slowly,
I learned and from the soil I earned the right
to eat the right
to bear seed and harvest,
and plant again.

Rising early,
leaving the cries of children whose needs are eventually met,
at the back of a fertile lot I encompassed my plot visions
of soups
and health
and vegetable
wealth

On this morning,
the birds are in concert with me
their chirps encourage stomata
to unfurl
as the bees about have a brush with pollen and stamen
and ensure an early success in my unfolding drama

Many years later,
herbs dried and harvested flowers only in photo
The soil a Piedmont away
and the babies almost grownups more mature each day the sun shines,
but at a slightly different angle

I pray for the earth and
meditate on angels that will sit upon their shoulders
as they drive away and make their own truth

I have been here but
am only part of their plans
my influence has largely passed and now
I can only be the place

Where their ideas are discarded
or supported