Past fields dressed for spring, I drive through my Iowa.
Farmers wake Earth for the planting
where life has always begun:
In the dirt.
I drive down long roads,
between perfect squares of an earthen quilt
and at the quilt’s springtime seams, I see
a harvest has already begun.
Just there, at the fabric’s edge,
a harvest in the spring.
In Iowa, this harvest goes round and round
Turn, turn, turn …
For everything there is a season, and in the wind, the harvest is unending.
Harnessing wind for power, blades sweep the air,
seven stories high
on steel towers rising up from dirt
to catch the breath of God.
I catch my breath.
Spirit awakens in me, in the meeting of the harvest and the spring,
where dirt and breath intertwine.
For I am made of both.
I stop at field’s edge
and step onto life-giving dirt to hear it: Life-giving breath.
Genesis power on an Iowa field.
by breath of God.
“The LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” — Genesis 2:7
“The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” — John 3:8
Photos: Wind turbines spinning a harvest somewhere in Buena Vista County, Iowa.
Part of the High Calling Blogs Random Acts of Poetry.