Grateful

as you cut a new garden bed

at a corner of the fence

where roses ramble and climb

give thanks for the grass you spade

now destined root and blade

for the compost heap

for clay yielding its firmness

to leaf mold and mulch

for all that holds the water

and the slow decay

near the bottom of life

for the worms

the ants the grubs

the hidden roots and stones

the hard work uncovers

for tools and

the idea of tools

ancient in their design

for lifting and raking

for digging and tilling

for plants

by color and name

that survived

plastic pots

in the hot lots

of the garden center

for rough hands

strong legs

a beating heart

lungs that breathe

the sour and dusty air

for those who showed the way

and those who didn’t

though neither knew

where the path would go

nor how the garden might grow

for mistakes that sort

the random and the sublime

and hard choices

that cut to the present

for yourself

dirty and marvelous

for being this in love

with the earth