the summer garden

I never let a full day pass
Without a touch of leaf or grass,
And never sunset goes but I
Must cool my lips against the sky.

For life grows acrid as a 'sloe
As less and less of earth we know;
And life grows hollow as a reed
Without some earth on which to feed.

Earth is no friend we may forget.
For she and man are intimate,
And when the years pile up and leave
The little graves at which we grieve,

He, who has kept this nutrient link
With God, has inner food and drink;
Has more of faith and less of dearth,
And one true friend, the constant Earth.

-Eva Willes Wangsgaard