The DeltaPlease Lord, when my days have passed and I lay my head on my pillow in preparation for eternal slumber,Don't let heaven be as Pastor Tim describes itLet heaven be as I remember it from my childhoodInstead of pearly gates, might I instead have a weathered fence overlooking a field of grazing cattle?In place of a street of gold, may I have a dusty, dirt road leading to my family's farm?I don't need a mansion God. Could I instead have my grandmother's house on a Saturday night and the smell of pasta on the stove?Might I have a rice field to swim in without knowledge once again of the moccasins sharing my make-shift swimming hole?Maybe you could give me late night games of hide-and-seek with my cousins.After all, heaven must have a view like that atop a grain bin with your first love on a cold winter's night.God, please make heaven like the Delta.People still love their neighbor there God.Families still gather together there.A hard day's work in the field is not toil when Momma and Daddy know their kids will greet them at home, smiling and fulfilled. There are still mud holes to play in and trees to climb.You see God, I think I am already prepared for heaven.I think I could draw you a map of that place.After all, I have lived there my whole life. Writer's BlockJust put pen to paperBut what to write ofSubjects abound but no inspirationLadies dancing, gossamer gowns weave against a backdrop of taffeta bustlesChildren, floating imps, travel among daffodil petals in the breezeDainty dew drops form on the silent spider's homeNaked feet pound the blacktop in search of a resting placeFragrant roses open face upon morning's first lightA child's first cry is heard as a tear rolls down mother's cheekInnocence is lost for one young girl with a stolen kissGolden wheat sways in a warm, fragrant fieldLovers embrace under spring's first showerThe sun sets and the day is done The Dirt and MeAs I walk down this dusty road, I see the world around me I listen and hear the cicada's wild mating call I hear water bubbling in the little ditch brimming with tadpoles and their bullfrog fathers I see a truck bounding up the road Maybe I will jump the truck and ride away on an adventure I will sail away on a pirate ship and feel the warm salt water breeze whipping through my hair I will eat my dinner with czars and finally understand what it feels like to be bathed in jewels I will run through the dense tropics alongside striped tigers and bushy lions I will feel the rush from a cliff dive at fifty feet into the cool blue waters of the pacific But, the truck passes and I am once again drawn back to my dirt road I did have an adventure once One night when I was very small, the dark men revolted The dark child named Moses had made kiss face at Mrs. Jewel Papa said it was an injustice and they hung the boy His tiny, frail body hung in the tree for a week while I watched them throw rocks at the corpse Is it possible to bruise a body long dead Is it possible to bruise a whole race of people even after the turmoil has passed Me and the baby hid in the bushes as the fear crept down the streets of town Turns out the boy had a facial tic Could we all just be in perfect harmony, connected by our hearts and nature I wish to lie here in the soft wildflowers and bathe in the warm rays of day's final sunlight There are no more earthly rules for me to follow I am one simply with this dirt that clings to my feet Yes, I am the dirt child I smell like fresh cut grass on a cool spring day I bound from branch to branch with my squirrel cousins I burrow into the soft spot under the oak tree with my rabbit sisters I cut through the lake water alongside a fat catfish Come join me world Take up no task except to commune with the dirt You must if you are to know me For you are not one of the dirt people But you wish you were
