Believe This

A wonderful image for those working in the gardens and farms today. I take my hat off to you and soak myself in this image.

Believe This

by Richard Levine

All morning, doing the hard, root-wrestling

work of turning a yard from the wild

to a gardener’s will, I heard a bird singing

from a hidden, though not distant, perch;

a song of swift, syncopated syllables sounding

like, Can you believe this, believe this, believe?

Can you believe this, believe this, believe?

And all morning, I did believe. All morning,

between break-even bouts with the unwanted,

I wanted to see that bird, and looked up so

I might later recognize it in a guide, and know

and call its name, but even more, I wanted

to join its church. For all morning, and many

a time in my life, I have wondered who, beyond

this plot I work, has called the order of being,

that givers of food are deemed lesser

than are the receivers. All morning,

muscling my will against that of the wild,

to claim a place in the bounty of earth,

seed, root, sun and rain, I offered my labor

as a kind of grace, and gave thanks even

for the aching in my body, which reached

beyond this work and this gift of struggle.