My Ark

A row of tiny emeralds
emerging from the warm, brown earth.
Millions of years in the making
shaped by place and time,
each selection, an offering.

Gathered and collected
seed, root, stem; call out to me,
catching more than my eye.
Leaf, flower, form; are only part
of an equation that let's each
onto my borrowed ark.

A plot in space and time
I am compelled to nurture and honor
the creation that surrounds us all.
This is our only duty, so often forgotten.
Teachers in the warm, brown earth.

-Bob Love