slow dance

photo courtesy of Tracy Jo

She worked the ground
with pained hands
when it was colder
and all she had was dirt
to show for her efforts

luxurious dirt
if dirt can be so,
pregnant with the promise
of life to come

life will come
life will come

abundance.
a slow dance
of nature and intention
arms around waists
head on her shoulder
sweaty palms and
shallow breaths

uncertainty abounds here.
the fluttering heart,
along with the maybe,
the perhaps,
the probably,
that something will come

life will come
life will come

violent vernal
tempests
yield what sun alone
could never do

until life finally
springs
bashfully, carefully –
hopefully.

life is coming
she is coming

she tends with love.
dirt-covered hands
– still painful –
cleansing the insides
to her soul’s very depths,
as only fertile soil can

bashful gives way to
brashful
in the best way possible

I am here!
I am here!

In the here-ness
she finds purpose –
to be fed – and to feed
she knows
keeping the bounty of life
to herself
means waste and rot

so life gives
and she gives

then,
melancholy,
realizing anew
this time of
vibrant verdancy
is not eternal

her garden is a season.

cyclical.
patterned.
recurrent.
beginnings
and endings
both necessary.

so she works the dirt
a while longer
pulling green from the black
while this period of plenty
persists

for it will go
she will go

and then –

she will come again
to dance once more
in her garden.

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if you open your heart to the hungry,
    and provide abundantly for those who are afflicted,
    your light will shine in the darkness,
    and your gloom will be like the noon.
The Lord will guide you continually
    and provide for you, even in parched places.
    He will rescue your bones.
You will be like a watered garden,
    like a spring of water that won’t run dry.

Isaiah 58:10-11