1.
Feet on soft earth feel different.
My feet on ashphalt starve.
A walk along a concrete
sidewalk may bring
refreshment through the eyes
and breezes to kiss skin,
but underneath the feet,
under the feet
it's like a coffin lid.
I have learned
that our feet breathe,
our feet see,
our feet are organs
like our hearts and lungs.
We have roots like great trees,
that go down deep,
maybe to the center of the Earth.
2.
Sitting at a table indoors,
I can't write a hymn to you, Earth.
My mind becomes a satellite
orbiting disembodied,
separated from me
by miles of thick darkness,
sends back messages
showing there's no life out there.
And yet for wilderness,
sometimes I just
walk out the door —
a tree, a park, a strip of grass,
and I've tasted
Nature's Medicine.
3.
Even cities,
roads and buildings
all rest upon you, Earth.
In mercy you sustain us
through the miracle
of your fertility.
Your soil is a gift
hand-crafted for us
through the ages.
Children who have squandered
your bounty, may we grow up now
and finally learn
the sacrament of living
on your body
with respect.
Max Reif
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/9-sept-a-hymn-to-the-earth/
