For three hours in the morning sun
I kneeled over plants, like a prayer,
devoted to weeding our garden
As I sweat, squinted and grunted
I marveled and was humbled
by the tenacity of living things
How stubborn neglected weeds are
clinging for dear life, like bad habits
over time, almost stitched to the earth
Some were undeniably attractive
like our wily, deceptive sins
evil masquerading as good
How interconnected everything is
what inscrutable, delicate balance
even the lowly earthworm —
Quietly, steadily turning the soil,
helping the flow of water & nutrients,
like our own out-of-sight soul work.
—y. Lababidi, author of Learning to Pray