Soil Poems - Poems about Soil

Moonlight weeps on rusted stone, Where once I danced, I crawl alone. Roots with hands now draw me near, Feeding on my deepest fear. My shadow speaks in shattered rhyme. A ghost who bleeds through endless time. ...

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The day, the soil lab took care of him, and I sighed Categorical exclusion, You were there, but almost Nye! My outspoken, my hidden, my own darker trace My grace, rancid disgrace, my song and my own mess Did I ever tell you? I loved you with all my heart, I loved you all! I had no desire, there, my...

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I am naked. _bare_ my hands (_)Whose trace are these wounds? I am naked. [naked] prominent blue grooves, - Green, - Blue, - Red! Red whispers(./:) on your skin crawls _my skin_ Is pale(.) your skin(,/.) Stretches _sketch_ [sleepy] - are you dead - are you? - you dead? my skin(!/?) I draw a line. _grooves_ [groove] are you (…/?) Red pours. Pours (./?) _Pouring_ Hanging. Burning. _flow_ The flow of the artery in the groove of my skin. [Soil] I was sleeping. What color was the soil? do you know? are you… red...

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When we are deprived of the feel and touch of soil we become diminished - it's as if our nature draws nourishment and meaning from what it holds - our history, our beginnings. Children know it and plunge fingers into earth, sometimes lifting it to their mouths out of an instinctive need to take in the mystery. Parents are horrified and rush to stop the tasting....

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I buried the past, yet flowers still rise from the soil of forgotten memories, Roots tangled in dreams and longings that stubbornly refuse to die, The earth retains traces of pain, transforming suffering into petals of grace, Even shadows need light to dance at the edge of silent brilliance. A silent reminder—not everything that disappears is lost, not everything...

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[Poet’s Note : McGregor is a small rural village in Small Karoo, SA, which experiences extreme winters. It is believed that 8 of Earth’s leylines cross one another in McGregor, making this village a powerful planetary energy junction. My youngest daughter & I were privileged to live on a small holding vineyard in McGregor, for...

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Independence vs In-Dependency They came with promises wrapped in lies, With deceit veiled in hope and disguise. Their flags stabbed the soil—our soil, my soil— Turning sacred lands into fields of toil, Whose fruits we'd never taste. You set foot in my village, my home, Did you feel the soil, once rich, now scarred? Did the earth groan as you took its...

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I am a son of the dark continent By conception and ancestral offshoot This black earth, Where my dark ancestors deposited The birth right of my life In the dark bowels of our black sacred earth, As the Canon and cradle of civilization; The Land where my dark nostrils First embraced the dark air in my dark lungs; Which my dark...

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Food — The gift of soil and hand, A miracle that sprang from sand, Quenching hunger, warming souls, Is the bite and sip from steaming bowls. The ripened fruits and tender greens, Eaten with crusty loaf of grains, With flavours bold, textures sweet, Making every bite a rare retreat. A vital force that flows within, Building bones and mending skin, Is the dance of taste...

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“The future may see the exhaust of mines dug deep into Earth’s core. But, the soil has to keep producing food for the ever growing Earth’s population.” - quote by A.A.Jarilov, Soil-Scientist --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Supporting life on Earth Nourishing life of all kinds She breathes green She has life cycle She is a living being With a definite genesis She evolves differently Adapting to changing climate Redesigns...

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{Poet’s Note : I wrote this poem for the passing of my very dear friend & comrade, Cecyl Esau, Umkhonto we Sizwe Commander in 2021, as a contribution to his memorial service. Cecyl was given a full Provincial Military Official Funeral. Though the reading was filmed & recorded as part of the proceedings, I recently...

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When two bodies merged with the miracle of the breath of life, a brand new flesh being began to grow ...

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Sweating in the rustic dusts of Nazareth, you laboured. As a farm labourer, ironsmith, weaver, and shepherd, You ploughed with the peasants, who were curious yet loving. They were teachers from whom wisdom, like clear streams, flowed, gushing. You walked, pondering over the Sea of Galilee. Where fishermen struggled like lilies amidst barberry, The breeze, amalgamated with the Abba message, blew. With...

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Spring Sonnet The microscopic lifeforms in my soil Sense the rising in degrees Celsius. Old Summer’s red wiggler worms now uncoil, While hungry birds look down most odious. Most showers now done, the weeds envelope The surviving herbs, flowers, plus veggies. Like the weeds, slimy molluscs interlope, Quitting the shadows with their progenies. Scooping composted chicken & steer Into my orange Home Depot buckets; Troweling...

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Oh, land of yearning, soil of the pandemic, Across your bereaved fields, a lone wanderer carries His tattered garment of helplessness, In his steps echoes the cry of the land that cannot comprehend him. Through your white villages, withered by time and forgetfulness, The divine vagabond leaves his unseen tracks, Heavy, laden with hopes, beneath the cross he bears, His laments murmur...

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