Can it be my heart beats content With trowel in hand, Black till beneath my nails? This pleasure known completely, To dig the glory of our mother earth, And mold, by my hand, a ready hollow Laden with her sustenance.
With reverence understood, I press a seed deep into her bosom, And sing praise to her creations manifest. An afternoon to plow my simple Eden To beckon the angels daffodil and marigold, Contemplating the promise of their hue.
This mellowed heart skips a beat when Peeks the upstart green, one brave sprig Who rises to the arms of the rolling seasons and begs a kiss of the returning sun. And Yes, charmed it seems This smile awash my grateful lips, As I kneel to ask the earthworm Show me his full breadth Lain across my open hands, So that I may marvel at his beauty And give thanks for our brotherhood.
jeanne rené 2/05
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Reviews of "Reverence"
Reviewed by *********** ********** (Reader)
Reviewed on February 20, 2005
Just beautiful Jeanne...Crisp, clear images.....ty, Dani
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