In the garden I grabbed a handful of dirt
but it jumped out of my hand—living!
It was a toad, dirt-colored, dirt-still.
I knelt there a while and we looked
at each other and for a moment
no thoughts passed between us.
We were just two clumps of dirt,
two sizes, two stories,
two distances from words.
I was amazed at what I’d thought was dirt.
How often had this happened?
He had no such thoughts.
I returned to my gardening, then looked,
and he had vanished. Only clumps of dirt.
The woods were full of him.
I got up and walked down the street,
practicing believing everything
is more full of life than we know.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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