My Dirty Hands
My dirty hands
I hold the rich, crumbly dirt in my hands,
Savoring the warmth of sunlight in it,
Inhaling the aromas of power that
The dark earth holds.
With this power and a tiny seed
I can create wonders.
Where now the earth is idle, I can,
With nature’s help, sow seeds into this ground,
Watch as small green fledglings emerge
And stretch towards the life giving sunlight.
My gardener’s heart jumps with delight,
And with a feeling of gratitude
I watch over those emerald babies.
There is a lot of trust between
gardener and plant.
I trust they will grow, they trust
I will water them, watch over them.
One day soon, some will tower over me.
It is amazing!
In the shade provided by golden sunflowers
and soft yellow blooming okra stalks,
I kneel down to weed.
They soak up the sun, I appreciate
the shade they give.
Happily I work with my dirty hands.
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