'Earth plodder, I am too often uncomprehending. Gather me, with friends, into a yielding, ready green…' Photo: by Jordan Whitt on Unsplash
Of small and cumulative acts
Poem by Dana Littlepage Smith
Come gentle Shaper, caress
my acts into a quieter fire.
I am tired. I have forgotten the music
of silent deeds.
Sweep me into the threshing floor
where corn and chaff are one
until the gold begins to light
the discerning into the willing stream.
Come, small me into the cave
where Benjamin Lay laboured for years
with his library, his love and his pokeberry bladder.
He who with the bright blade of his days
proclaimed that all when cut, bleed.
Come walk these hills with me,
as my bare feet feel the bent back
of Benjamin who lies in an unmarked grave.
Earth plodder, I am too often
uncomprehending. Gather me,
with friends, into a yielding,
ready green… Come gentle Shaper,
Concern me with your will.
Recall in me the seed-keen-craft
of planting simples
that my life, one day, might speak.
