A man is made of dirt,
About him clings the scent of earth,
Mossy darkness, animals.
A soul enmeshed in trees and swamps
And sky.
Beneath society's disguise
A furtive creature hides,
With quickened pulse and
Rapid breath beneath the trees
In search of prey.
A man is made to run,
To swim the blackened pools and climb
The thundering heights.
To gaze across the waves
And go.
A man is made to hunt, to fight,
To smell of forest deeps.
And most unlikely,
Disconcertingly,
A man is made
To love a woman.
To pause upon the precipice,
And turn again toward the one
Who claims him as her own.
To hunt for one and kill for two
To think of her upon the ground,
And see her in the summer stars.
So clean the dirt and hide the scent,
And know as certain as I must
Return to wood and field and sky,
I will not go so far that I
Cannot return again to you.
I love this promise poem.A beautifully written message of love. Wonderful read
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
interesting to read this one when just a few days ago i was doing yard work and meditating on dirt and considering whether to start a poem on it. my meditation took different turns, but i certainly relate to the one this poem takes. something i'm convinced of is that considering our origins, it isn't healthy to be far removed from dirt, from bird and cricket sounds, from flower scents... i know it helps keep me in balance. -g