Holy Days in the Apple Pi Inn: Earth Day

Two 50 lbs. sacks of Kentucky 31 grass seed are stacked under the Angel Well house waiting for a sower and a sunny day. The Earth Day forecast was Cloudy, but a hard rain is falling, so the grass seed will have to wait a little longer. The patch of earth behind the Inn has been cleared of the rubble created by re-construction that went from the roofs to the floorboards. It took five dump truck loads to reveal the ground again. It’s hard to know when it’s a time to keep and when it’s time to let go. The ground needs breathing room; there are apple trees to plant, and the grass is waiting, so it’s time to sow.

Grass for holding the earth in place. Grass for the four-leggeds to roll in. Grass for greening the gray. Grass for all the grave matters of life. I turn to the poetics of the unknown prophet of Exile, beginning in the book of Isaiah, chapter 40.

A voice says, “Cry!”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
All people are grass,
their constancy is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades;
but the word of our God will stand forever. Isaiah 40:6-8

I study the Angel Well house, the sacks of grass, the stacks of straw.
If the blistering heat of our Deathbreath continues,
where will the Word of God stand,
how can it take root
if the earth is missing?