Earthworms
by Lynn Ungar
Imagine. The only thing that
God requires of them
is a persistent, wriggling, moving forward,
passing the earth through
the crinkled tube of their bodies
in a motion less like chewing
than like song.
Everything they encounter
goes through them,
as if sunsets, drug store clerks,
diesel fumes and sidewalks
were to move through our very centers
and emerge subtly different
for having fed us — looser somehow,
more open to the possibility of life.
They say the job of angels
is to sing to God in serried choirs.
Perhaps. But most jobs
aren’t so glamorous.
Mostly the world depends upon
the silent chanting underneath our feet.
To every grain that enters: “Welcome.”
To every parting mote: “Be blessed.”
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| We Can All Use a Little Illumination 3.5 x 5" postcard; acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel on paper abstract landscape 2021 |
6 comments:
This is so beautiful! Again: your painting and your words!
Simone, thank you. This postcard is a found composition excerpted from a painting that I did in the company of a friend several summers ago and have now brought to completion. I can take full credit for the painting, only selection credit for the poem I posted : )
To every grain that enters: “Welcome.”
To every parting mote: “Be blessed.”
These words left me in tears. They just hit the exact right spot. Yes, yes YES. Your words, paired with that sweet painting that lets my eyes just rest and delight - illumination.
Powerful words, those words: every, grain, welcome, parting, mote, blessed. Powerful, too, the blessed wash of tears. So glad for you. And glad you rested and delighted in the painting, with its earthworms' earth-moving beneath what meets the eye : )
Be blessed, Dear Dotty! Enjoying this sweet little flower field :)
Thanks, Sheila! Back atcha —— be blessed : )
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