by K. B. Johnson © Spring, 2005
From the Creator, I was birthed,
and given land to call my own—
for I was to never to be alone.
I set forth to cultivate this fertile soil,
pouring myself into its pink clay,
amazed by wonders made naked.
Creating from my endeavor hope that I shall reap the attention I give it,
I never question when the land I lay claim to will one day reward;
for when the earth sprouts devotion,
I shall continue tending the land I have sown...
until I die and become one with this fertile soil.