This poem, by Philip Britts (described as a British Wendell Berry), landed in my inbox yesterday morning (thanks to Plough Publishing. I do love their daily emails). It’s a beautifully worded reminder to really live this life. not just the lovely and fun parts, but also the messy, ugly and painful parts. grounded. with my heart in the sky.
I hope you enjoy it, too. Happy Tuesday!
Let there be not only the roses,
Not only the buds of the day,
But the noon and the hour that discloses
The full flower torn away:
Not only the bliss and the sweet
When the sun is soft and low,
But the weary aching of feet
Tired out by the harrow and hoe:
Not only the gazing and sighing
Where the heather stands thick on the moor,
But the lonely watch and the crying,
With hunger awake at the door:
Not only the anthems eternal,
Song without hurry or pause,
But the sweat and the stink and the screaming
of circular saws –
Not only the mercy of dreaming,
But the labor and learning of laws:
Not only the wonder of reaping
The fruit that hangs red on the bough,
But the strain and the stagger of creeping
In the brown wake of the plough.
Let this be the way that I go,
And the life that I try,
My feet being firm in the field,
And my heart in the sky.
~Philip Britts, Water at the Roots