There’s no line in the soil

There’s no line in the soil

My battered, broken body
Cast upon the dirt.
Side-by-side green shoots spring up;
Ants busily move their young;
A seed-shaped beetle plods onwards.

Earth receives all, transforms all, gives life to all.
With effortless unity
A million tiny lives entwine,
All encompassed in the great dance.

You ask me to take my knife
And cut a line in the soil
To separate this from that,
Ant from flower, man from tree—
But it cannot be done.

With inconceivable subtlety
The web of life weaves on;
Not even a speck is left out.
Everything has its time and its place.
The chattering mind falls silent
And is humbled.

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