Soul of the Soil

To say, “Not worth the dirt on my shoes,”

Is to cast our most precious foundation away.

For I have knelt where wild roots fuse,

And listened to what the earth had to say:

“God breathed into me the life of man,

The blood, the body and the breath— I am.”

This soil has held the first of days,

Bore beasts and kingdoms, dust to dust.

It keeps no debts, for that I praise,

And hope I never break its trust.

For in its depths, all life is spun,

And in its arms, All return to One.

I dig my fingers in the deep,

And feel my soul begin to wake.

For what was I but dust asleep,

Until Life’s spark chose to partake?

The soul of soil is the soul in me—

What once was star, turned into tree.

So tread not lightly, bow instead,

Honor the ground where all things rise.

For even kings will lay their heads

Beneath this dirt they once despised.

The greatest truth, the treasured key:

The soul of the soil still lives in me.