There is a pleasant sound
In the quiet of a garden
I always want to be in it
As I dig into the ground
I can’t get any closer to nature
Than with my hands in the soil
It feels like becoming one
With something, something
That is more than me
I bring plants into the world
Hoping that I will also grow
I wear quiet around my wrists
It reminds me to let rush move on
And use solitude as a cure
To the loudness in the day
Silence sanctifies my soul
And words are used purely
As decoration in my life
The smell of the earth leads
Me to believe that I, too, am
Beginning
