The Mercy & Magic of Being Renewed

Listen to the Song in the Audio ↑

Read the Story Behind It (and get nerdy-dirty )↓

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I was hearty and solid,
steady as a rock
until the weather came
and broke me up:

relentless wind
relentless rain
relentless snow
relentless waves

How could I be anything 
but silt and sand 
as I've been dissolved 
in this erosion?

Have you ever felt like you were broken?

The hardest part is believing 
that I deserved the breaking-
that I'm not worth protection,
that I deserved forsaking.

The hardest part is believing 
that there's no way to fix it-
that I'm far beyond gone, 
that I'm hopeless and helpless.

The hardest part of being broken 
is believing I should be discarded-
that I've lost all my worth 
that I've lost my purpose.

What would the soil say to the soul
at the bottom of the lake,
at the bottom of the hole?

What would the soil say to the soul
that had turned to ash, 
that had turned to mold?

"Have you ever met a microbe?"
What a surprise!
I laughed as it asked me
to look beyond eyes.

These tiny helpers
can't been seen
but they can be found
in everything:

in all the air
and every inch of Earth:
the ubiquitous helpers
of life's rebirth 

who love everything
that's fallen apart; 
nothing's discarded 
in this compost art 

where the recipe is simple:

-the silt and sand
that were weathered and worn
-the dry crumbling leaves
and that were fallen and torn

-the bones and flesh
of the sick and aged
-all the fruit that 
fell off the plate.

Then stir in some water
and give it some air. 
Life's unseen heroes
will take it from there. 

Don't worry if it's slimy.
Don't worry if it stunk.
A little rebalancing 
makes riches of muck. 

Turning and timing,
patience and will-
is all that is needed
when I've gone downhill,

where the soil is richest
under the peak,
where life flourishes
from all that is bleak:

Darling, please remember
these factors of formation
as you're turning the compost,
as you tend this transformation:

there's helpers everywhere
(even in your breath)-
the invisible janitors
who adore what's left.

You, my dear, 
are totally cherished

in all your stages:
rock and sludge,
rot and shreds,
sand and mud-

there is a garden 
that's made by you
in this soulful celebration
of becoming renewed. 

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Check Out the Dorky-Dirt Facts on Soil:

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