The earth beneath my feet is the great womb
out of which the life upon which my body depends
comes in utter abundance.
There is at work in the soil a mystery
by which the death of one seed
is reborn a thousandfold in newness of life.
Some Thing that moves among the stars, And holds the cosmos in a web of law, Moves too in me: a hunger, a quick thaw Of soul, that liquifies the ancient bars, As I, a member of creation, sing The burning oneness binding everything.
