To flower from seeds,
to make roots from water
means there’s a tending

or soft beginning like tenderness.
Delicate young germination

from soil. My baby. My soil as a noun.
A piece of ground from the Old French for sol.
A native lightness. The sol rises in Texas too.

Rising like a verb, there’s no stillness
to the threshold—another word for the bottom of a door,
meaning there’s a sill soiled. A sill or cut timber. Laid
& crossed over. To soil a verb meaning

there is original sin, meaning before dirt
there was cleanliness. No entry, no violation

of God. A mess of seeds that needs
water. Give us a mess of thick mud. 

            Que chiquero.             Standing still like a cleansing
after a gentle roll-around. Wallowing in a field

como un puerco. Madrugando            con hambre—
I am your shepherd. I am ready for battle

with the pastured sky
you fought so hard against

their beanstalks growing upside down, reaching for hell.