Love burns through the Putting in the Seed

While I am surely enjoying the jeweled tones of Italy, there is no spring for me like a Kansas spring, neither in delicacy nor in fury. Those who don't garden think the summer burns, but for the "planter", it's spring that is on fire with green flames of life and love.


Putting in the Seed

You come to fetch me from my work tonight
When supper's on the table, and we'll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea),
And go along with you ere you lose sight
Of what you came for and become like me,
Slave to a springtime passion for the earth,
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

--Robert Frost