Making a Living

Sometimes it is hard to imagine
the ways any souls
made the journey before us,
earned their way in the world
of tough granite --
the pressure of survival
leaving little room for supple hands.

They had to hold on
with all their might,
fingers white with worry,
to move stones and trees,
tend sheep and goats,
cobble shoes and  yoke
the stubborn oxen
toward one bit of chaos
or another.

In the summer I work for a farmer,
Vermont is more beautiful.
Sometimes it is hard to believe
my soul is free to breathe
with my hands in the dirt
and my eyes feasting on flowers.

I hold on to my life,
stubborn as an ox,
like a precious gift
to be moved with care
and loved so deeply in
and around me.

I tend this work
like a shepherd
who knows the gentle ways
of the land and the harsh truth
of paying attention.

My fingers are cut
and tangled with chaos.
It is a lesson
in making a living
out of  everything
that really matters.