let the soil touch my face
in a final sharing of stored light
for it is the dirt of this earth
that gave me birth
let it take me home again
i will sing with the worms
lift blades of grass
as fingers to the wind
raise saplings to catch the rain
i will speak from stones
beneath a broken moon
let me crawl into the earth
and she into me
we will make love, eternal
as the crickets sing
—Ruth Rice
