Till

by Desi Ana Sartini

TILL

Expelled from Eden’s ease to wild East,

where days are toil and tears—the cost of bread.

Yet all God made is good, this land not least;

though far from Him, we’re still by blessings fed.

Now tilling, sowing, tending on our knees,

we work to grow a garden of our own.

And as we dig, we cannot help but dream

that God might come and make of it His home.

But no—no wilderness of soil is our divide,

but wilderness of soul from seeds there sown:

the fruit of lies we swallowed in our pride

with treacherous roots sunk deeper than we know.

So till and wait and pray uproot the weeds;

till heart and soil, prepared, receive new seed.

DESI ANA SARTINI

Desi Ana Sartini writes from SE Asia, where she has immersed herself in language. She studies Malay literature by day, Hebrew poetry by night, and cake-making on the weekends. Her work has appeared in Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Foreshadow Magazine, The Habit podcast, and her writing blog at www.breathanddust.com.