To get the Earth under your nails
you have to go into your garden.
It is quite alright
to go only on sunny days,
Though today you are
16 again, in love, in spring
with the Earth again,
like her you are an old woman
who continues to work
her renewing miracle.
Often the Earth shudders, weeps, breaks
yet there is always this
miracle of new growth,
springing from her pores
in nervous energy they call,
She is warm today,
sunshine the texture of molasses
slow flowing, caressing my limbs
as I sing my song to her, field
that yields so much
profusion: too small a word
for this exhalation everywhere
of beauty: again, too small a word.
You can hold only so much of her
as fits under your shortened fingernails.
It is close enough. With the arms of your mind
You can hold her so close as to enter her.
Today, in you, Earth, I am totally
present, O how rare this moment!
Beloved of my days and of the far flung
galaxies in whom the Earth and I breathe,
our love is getting co-dependent.
Breaths are intermingling here,
together, like the Earth and atmosphere,
like Earth and every breathing and no breathing thing,
like you and me.
Is this what they call a marriage,
This day, your sunshine
on my winter body,
hungry for you?
I eat you, I breathe you,
I, a retired mare in your field
chomping healing herbs.