Fortune
A Poem by Chelsea Fraser
We dig.
We trust the earth to care for our dead.
We leave them with her, from whom we came,
To return to the earth, and its riches.
She holds a fortune vast,
Endowed by God as home and hallow
For each short life—
but breath of God
Is not so composed.
and we are also of that
Breath.
He holds infinite whole,
A never-lack too great to be called wealth,
For wealth is of this matter held
Within our good, rich earth—
But He is more.
And so we also rise.