Thin Soil

As I’ve come to understand that life “composts” and “seeds” us as autumn does the earth, I’ve seen how possibility gets planted in us even in the hardest of times. —Parker Palmer

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There are times I am just tired soil

Too much has been expected

Too much has been offered

And the richness is gone

Nothing flourishes

Nothing blooms

And yet

It is amazing what the sacred can do

With tired earth

Leaves fall, rains come

Seeds fall from the flowers and the trees

And the earth is renewed

Out of the sloppy mess of fall

And the frozen sleep of winter

Spring comes

Freshness

New life

There is hope it seems for this tired soul

Always Sacred tries its best

To compost and seed me

Sometimes this soil is disturbed by pain and grief

Sometimes a dash of joy or love

Is worked in

But always possibility is planted

Always, no matter what

I am nurtured in such a way

That out of depletion comes abundance

Out of fear, hope

Out of anger, affection

I just have to be receptive

And willing to be “worked”

Composted, seeded

I may be thin soil

But I am God’ soil