Thursday Poem - Daily (For Earth Day)

These shriveled seeds we plant,
corn kernel, dried bean,
poke into loosened soil,
cover over with measured fingertips

These T-shirts we fold into
perfect white squares

These tortillas we slice and fry to crisp strips
This rich egg scrambled in a gray clay bowl

This bed whose covers I straighten
smoothing edges till blue quilt fits brown blanket
and nothing hangs out

This envelope I address
so the name balances like a cloud
in the center of sky

This page I type and retype
This table I dust till the scarred wood shines
This bundle of clothes I wash and hang and wash again
like flags we share, a country so close
no one needs to name it

The days are nouns: touch them
The hands are churches that worship the world

Naomi Shihab Nye, Daily
(from The Words Under the Words)

This is the week in which Earth Day falls, and I have had the usual Earth Day problem... Where on the planet does one find words and an image which adequately express the wonder and beauty and sacredness of this magnificent world in which we all walk and dream and live out our allotted days?

Naomi Shihab Nye's words are truly reverent and expressive, but an image??? I sit and mutter before the computer screen - I sort through CDs and DVDs of archived images, come close to despairing and renouncing photography altogether before decisions are made. Giving up photography is unlikely to happen of course, but on this day I am always painfully aware of the my creative shortcomings and sad that I cannot do better.

When choices have been made and posted, there are deep gasshos many times over to the Old Wild Mother (Mother Earth). This one is for you, Mama, with thanksgiving and a whole heart full of wonder. May I continue to witness your grandeur and patience and reciprocity for many years to come, and may I be your fierce and loving advocate all the days of my life.