By L.S. Heatherly
(dedicated to past Gardeners)
Unchased, now, one woman,
Unpursueing, now, one man,
Untilled, now, one garden.
One soul, believing no time is free,
Making its ancient rounds, diligently.
Yet, leaving more stones unturned.
One being, one citizen, of Earth's soil,
On watch over soil-life, sans toil,
Recovers something so faithfully earned:
Human culture-sproutings from Earth,
Once, our fate! An innate part of us;
Now, recovered birthright! So just!
Children, family, working, playing,
Rediscover their relatings in the maze
Of plant, blood, and human ways.
Yea, once -- before History's conquests --
Embraced, passed, equally, to all;
O vital part: of human being's call!
Fingers touch soil, water and air of Earth,
Souls' clutch growth, from seeds of their birth.
Copyright 2014 L.S. Heatherly
