The soil once soft and giving
Cheerfully accepted the rain
Fostered life and growth
Playing its part in the cycle
Time happens as time is wont to do
Trampled and hardened
The soil turns from receiving
And in kind, refuses to give
It becomes dry and cracked
Broken by pressure and the sun
Life being baked out of it
But not in the vision of the farmer
With dogged determination
And a relentless passion
He wrestles the plow into position
And drives the honed wedged blade in
The earth screams
At the piercing of the blade
The tearing of the ground
But this intrusion is just beginning
With a team of oxen
Or horses, or a tractor
Guided by knowing hands
The plow blade begins to rip the soil
As it pulls through
The tenderness of the earth
The softness of the soil
The hidden safe parts are exposed
The wound is deep
The tearing is relentless
The earth cries and bleeds
Surely this is death
But, death does not visit
Rather, life comes
“The wound
Is where the light gets in”
The seed is introduced
Into the gaping wound
With its very own microcosm
Of the death and life cycle
The outer shell dies
So the life inside may escape
It is ‘torn’ if you will
To release its light
So, the earth is torn
And life grows from the wound
The give and take continues
As from the beginning
Right now
You are hurting
You have closed your heart
However, your determination
Not to be hurt
Not to be bruised
Not to be battered
Not to be torn
By the act of loving
Hampers your giving
The wound
Is where the life gets in
The wound
Is where the healing must begin
Open, once again, your heart
Exposed your tender parts
Be brave, be courageous
There is life yet to live
There is love yet to give
The wound
Is where it begins
© Ron Simpson Jr
