I planted the shrub today
Nursed from stolen cutting out
And into the blessed Earth between weedling seedlings
Faintly chosen - not
Denied, in any case.
I planted the shrub in sacred ground
Along the woodland edge
I am glad, fulsomely
Foolishly perhaps, not knowing,
What time will tell there.
I planted and put my hands in the soil and
Then stood back to look upon this work.
And it was pleasing to me, the One who cut and placed,
Dug and rose and took and gave Life and took.
Wild heart in love with the world will build and tear and build again.
There is no loss in death of anything, anyone.
When you pull that next intruder out by the roots, take heart and know
There is no loss in the going of anything, anyone.
Always, a new planting. Always, more to come.
And each feeling that arises with the coming and the going is yours to keep.