It's so wonderful to wake up and have pleasant surprsies and sunshine and hope.
Rants coming soon about uninevitability of war, and about the public nature of blogging... but not right now. I'm running really really late.
Meanwhile, this poem is dedicated to someone who I hope may become a friend... and to her son, who has been out in the garden eating dirt. (He'll probably grow up to have a strong and healthy immune system and a love for the earth).
Dirt
The ideal soil
is light
crumbly
and dark
with humus.
Gather up a handful
enjoy the warm
spicy aroma
between your hands
you hold more living organisms
than there are people
on earth.
No matter how enterprising
we may be
our life
is dependant
on a thin layer
of dirt
and the fact
that it rains.
let it rain
to wash away
to cleanse my soul
then I can hold you
Once more....
thanks for deleting that message e hoa
mucho aroha
xxxxx