March 4th 2023

Thoughts on “The Man Born to Farming”

The man born to farming

Wendell Berry

“The grower of trees, the gardener, the man born to farming,

whose hands reach into the ground and sprout,

to him the soil is a divine drug. He enters into death

yearly, and comes back rejoicing. He has seen the light lie down

in the dung heap, and rise again in the corn.

His thought passes along the row ends like a mole.

What miraculous seed has he swallowed

that the unending sentence of his love flows out of his mouth

like a vine clinging in the sunlight, and like water

descending in the dark?”

Every year around this same time I find this poem repeating in my mind. Everywhere I look things are being renewed, field work begins and the air feels thick with anticipation. The change of seasons, longer days and blue skies are intoxicating and infectious. I can’t help but feel hopeful. The world turns on this rebirth and I find myself taking heart in it. We all suffer setbacks and challenges no matter what our work or calling is. Spring is the promise that every winter wanes, every frost succumbs to the growing light and I borrow strength from it. I hope you’ll each find a little light in your week ahead.