Morning Meditation in a Season Seeking Justice

Five days before
the longest day of the year,
I step out into the still, clear air of morning.

I long for the forming of dew,
for the calm refreshing
of these few moments

spent on the steps
of this small, plain porch
under the overhanging rafters.

Elm and oak line the silent street.
A slight breeze from the east
bends the spray of the sprinkler.

I sit and watch the constant back and forth
of thin streams drifting their white and gray
into the earliest parts of this day,

darkening the earth, at first in clear lines
but soon losing their defining edge
and merging into a mat of moisture.

Soaking into the soil,
spilling their sustaining fill into the dirt,
moving beneath the sod,

blending into earth and element on this good day.
Loosening N and P and K,
a readying for the roots

of tenacious grass
and the long shoots sent below
for the growing of the things that show

yet are so dependent
for their thriving green
upon the things that are not seen

and yet are fiercely known.

H. Arnett

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Ark City, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-nine years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-eight grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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