To love the land, to hold its hand and share
the wonder of sunrise as light slips up the slope
and over distant peaks, warming valleys,
tickling the senses in hollows deep;
to relax with the grass, enjoy the soft tread of ants,
appreciate their tunneling prowess, thankful
for their help; to work with the earth feeding
roses and honeysuckle, inhale their scent;
to rest on a rock at long day's end, each feeling
the other's firmness, warmed in the afterglow
of good labor, to find peace in the covering
darkness washed by the moon's soft light;
is to live with the land
till death do us part.