Lumbricus terrestris (The Earthworm)

On a day when the world is weighty,

dark and dense with need,

I want to be the earthworm

that gives itself over to tunneling,

its every movement an act

of bringing spaciousness.

And when minutes feel crushed by urgency,

I want to meet the world wormlike,

which is to say grounded,

consistent, even slow.

No matter how desperate the situation,

the worm does not tunnel faster

nor burrow more.

It knows it can take decades

to build fine soil.

To whatever is compacted,

the worm offers its good worm work,

quietly bringing porosity

to what is trodden, compressed.

So often, in my rush to repair,

I end up exhausted.

Let my gift to the world be

my constancy, a devotion to openness,

my willingness to be with what is.

Let my gift to myself be patience

as I tend what is dense and dark.

-- Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, from THE UNFOLDING (Wildhouse Poetry, 2024)