Psalm to my Lord from my Front Lawn
I planted last fall the grass seed mix with faith
in water, sun and soil . I hope to see the unseen
seeds sprout in this year's Spring. It has
appeared. It has taken root and mingles
with three leafed microclover. Taking a blade
in one hand, and a three winged leaf
of clover in the other, I lounge with my soul.
I look to our newest friend, a young oak we just
added. The newness of life fills me with longing for
Sweet Lord, who moves in the wind,
who moves me beyond my smallness,
makes me take notice of others in love,
to take notice of the young
couple living to my left raising their first
boy, not even one. Our boys , both babies now,
will grow up together. To my right, a man,
barely into his twenty, drinks the poison
of fun, parties and rootlessness. Without
aim, he finds purpose in a case of malted
mash, and cheap beer. Behind me, my family,
the gift of being alive, my baby boy discovering
the sweet taste of milk and Moma's voice.
He has learn to cry at the prospect
of sleep. Why sleep when life awaits,
demands to be experienced?
He sings the song of creation in his voice,
He will soon grab a handful of grass and clover.
For now I bring him a clover to smell,
he laughs and smiles. St Patrick would understand.
Today, my baby discovers a new smell.
Today, people fight for their freedom in Iran,
people mourn the death of Michael Jackson.
Today, we will share dinner with friends. Today,
we will place ancient flagstone of coppers red
and earthen browns on the side of our house
and plant creeping thyme to fill the spaces
between to stones. Today, I will sing
praises to my Lord.