Heirs to the Earth

I want to do the work of bees,
or grass growing in the field
even winter’s hungry wolverine

Labors of passion, because they are:
Bees
Grass
Wolverines

No choice but to be
givers, not takers
Heirs to the earth

When the sun crosses my face
each day, I shall not think
I don’t want to make honey, grow, be.

There is only this as far as I know.
It must be more than dreaming, and
soon, nature’s fuel will find me
right where it left off forty years ago.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s