Ash Wednesday

This is my land that I hold in my hand. 

But not mine – rather all who came before – 

 known to me and natives here eons ago. 

And not mine but all who come after – 

unknown to me – 

 ones I cannot instruct or control who will do as they will with this dirt, this place. 

May it grow food and flowers for them; 

 ground them in grass wet with dew; 

 harbor earthworms; 

 hatch dragonflies; 

 form a basin for puddles when it rains a century from now. 

May it form a basin for me, 

when I lay down my ashes, 

 when I live out the prophecy of ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 

May I become one with this land, this earth, this dirt. 

May my soul, spirit, dirt 

nourish generations to come, 

those I do not know and never will. 

And yet they will know me 

and they will hold me in their hand. 

I will be part of the land – theirs and mine.