Digging in fields

With special thanks to Jen Campbell for her invaluable feedback. 

I’ve come to do some digging. 

In a field, covered  

in mud — I hope 

you’re wearing solid shoes.  

And clothes you don’t  

much care for. 

I’m afraid we might  

slip 

time 

and 

time  

again. 

I know you have good  

tools or so people say. 

Please, 

bring them, too. 

And as we dig  

and dig  

and dig 

I know we will reach  

solid ground. 

A field of clay 

(moulded) 

an age or two ago 

left to dry, 

to develop  

cracks. 

Good to stand on but devout of beauty 

and fertile ground. 

So lets get hoeing: 

pick 

pick 

pick 

I’m scared this may be 

an unending task 

and what will we do 

with all the crumbled mess? 

Oh, I want so badly 

(so very very badly) 

to turn this field into one 

of silver 

and gold – 

richness reflecting the sun 

light for miles and miles. 

I see you smiling. 

Why, oh why, are you smiling? 

Don’t you see 

the desperation 

and frustration 

in my eyes? 

And then I watch  

you bending down, 

taking a seed out  

of your pocket. Gently 

pushing away  

the mud 

and dropping it into a crack. 

Finally, you ask 

‘You can have all the fields right here?’ 

And so, I listen. 

And so, I understand. 

Julia Ouzia
Lecturer in Psychology (Education) and Gestalt Student, Metanoia
[email protected] 

Twitter: @JuliaOuzia

Photo Credit: Abhishek Pawar – Shoots in Dry Earth – Unsplash