Ginseng Thieves

I found them on knee, on a Saturday morning,

early, digging three-pronged ginseng.

I told them to stop. And, go. And, was

only semi-polite about it.

They seemed surprised that I could arrive

there, just then, and spot

them in their leafy camo, such baggy pants,

and that I could speak a thing or two about the blond

roots (they’d broken most of the root hairs) gripped in

their pocket-buried hands, to which

red clay still clung, hopeful, that I’d get it set back

within this Earth;

It still had work to do:

this world needs holding.

***

This is what it is like to suddenly

realize that you are inhabiting

your belonging:

The forest had called out

to me by a name

I knew.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in  "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"

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