Dirt only knows how to be honest it's man who makes it stain
A dirty mouth, a dirty thought, or by something more mundane
Without it there isn't pond or lake nor any oceans to behold
To generate the wind over land and flowers to be blown
It cradles all the roots of plants for all that needs to eat
Giving to the trees that give our lungs the air to breathe
Dirt will leave it's mark upon the hands of an honest working man
It's the smudges on the faces of little children when they laugh
Add a little water and it becomes a thing we use to build
Then give it a little time and history is frozen still
It is as much a part of us as we are to the earth
It's the purist form of life and even in death it will rebirth
She is the mother of our creation and gentle like a woman's eyes
She comforts our existence and the apple of our heavens sky
So when that day should come please don't place me in a wooden case
Throw dirt upon my naked body so that gardens may take my place

~ JJF~