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The Soil Cant

It is when I am working the soil,
Not through hoe but finger toil
That again I do recall
An equilibrium with all
That lives upon and off the land
And because of this I stand
In awe that as my fingers slip
They fulfill my stewardship
Of this little piece of earth
To give what is my soul rebirth.
And as I work this humble ground
I know that through it I have found
That lying dormant is the seed
That grows to value man and weed.
~Michael Bahm~
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Poems By Bahm
Kavitanjali
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