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.