The soil sits compact and firm,
steady and not easily moved
in its congress with the rotation of the earth.
Nobel in its steadfastness
yet, it is unable to grow a single bloom.
A spade dug deep in its history invades
this too taut and fearfully dark space,
to expose the weeds to light with untidy grace,
disturbing the twisted roots below.
Then, those of us with seed to sow
can bend our bodies to the task
and make a garden grow.
The more diverse the seed, I say,
the happier the birds, butterflies and bees
all agog at the variety of shapes and colors
able to arise from earth disturbed and settled
around a multitude of possibilities
stodgy soil could never anticipate.
Tight-fisted earth formed under sun and shade
is made to shift and flow with uncertainty,
a new and better garden to create.
The season of change is upon us.
We must plant before it is too late.
annarino writes 