The human soul never will it become less than our supply of love to it

The human soul never will it become less than our supply of love to it
If ever fatigue of spirit was read it would read
The soil that supports us the soil that will never be anything else but soil
The soil that fires hope into belief and belief into breathing for itself
The soil from which futures are forged let those soils act
Let them as soils show footprints believing in possibility and hope
Why not let our children believe they can go looking for worm-casts on the moon
The soil of seeming that it becomes the soil of the believable
The soil of growing and nurturing the soil of conscience restored
The flower-heads of tolerance and compromise
This is the fire of a great fire a soil turned and turned again
This from a deliberate and precise ploughing
A bite of earth and its digestion listen to it
The soil preparing to outlive the politics
The mother of us and her new order
Until it appears that first fresh green shoot
The soil of deep study is a soil manured

Ronald Rae

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