Heaven Underneath My Feet

Paige's garden, Summer 2014

It’s like heaven underneath my feet,

The robust texture, earth so sweet.

The sun-spiced aroma filling my nose,

As I part the earth proudly in neat little rows.

Seeds, starts, and seedlings of all shapes and sizes

Find homes in that ground full of magic surprises.

The rich, grainy compote massages my toes;

My heart’s caught in such a way God only knows.

The breeze catches wind of the soil’s solemn sooth—

It speaks of fertility, purpose, and youth—

Of life, ling’ring onward though I leave this sod,

The ground where I’ve stood, where my children have trod.

My feet tell the tale of my rendezvous hence

In this place where my soul’s not constrained by a fence.

I’m a wild, free mesteno, who leaps clear and wide

Of every restriction in one joy-crazed stride—

My tail waving madly, as if to a song;

The music of nature that makes my heart strong.

In this simple act of my feet touching sod

My spirit finds comfort and gives praise to God.

And I’m left to ponder, when tilling’s complete—

How gold doth appear on that heavenly street.

Perhaps for my mansion, in that vast empire,

The Father’s considered His daughter’s desire.

There, maybe the “gold” isn’t metal divine

But eternal rich soil in a garden that’s mine.