For the Earth

turning my compost,
the friable matter crumbles like
manna on my spade

working the dark earth,
a fertile fragrance drifts upward,
essence of springtime

infinitely rich, this
mud and clay and quiet earth
out of which we came

small wonder
we drift like windborne catkins
longing for return

this April morning
among the daisies and the sage —
I plant myself too

9 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

lovely thoughts!

Anonymous said...

Echoing Crafty Green Poet...

Roswila said...

this April morning
among the daisies and the sage —
I plant myself too

Nice series. I really like the last one.

Colorful Prose said...

You were quite inspired!

Sandy said...

I agree with Roswila. The feeling is one I can identify with.

cloudscome said...

such infinite richness - yes!!

hundred and one said...

A lovely series of haiku.

Pearl said...

Gracious and glorious images.

Patois said...

A wonderful series. I'm so glad you shared it.