The woman born to farming...........

The WoMan Born to Farming

The Grower of Trees, the gardener, the WOman born to farming,
whose hands reach into the ground and sprout,
to her the soil is a divine drug. SHe enters into death
yearly, and comes back rejoicing. SHe has seen the light lie down
in the dung heap, and rise again in the corn.
Her thought passes along the row ends like a mole.
What miraculous seed has She swallowed
That the unending sentence of her love flows out of her mouth
Like a vine clinging in the sunlight, and like water
Descending in the dark?

-Wendell Berry

Ol’ Wendell of course wrote it as though the only farmers were male….