They say it’s the adventure, the planning and the effort
That’s the real gold, not the many handfuls of the treasure
I think about that mantra when I’m planting all my peppers
Up in January prepping like there’ll be a famine in September
Mapping out the plot of land, measure the geometry
Designating space for the broccoli and fava beans
Tilling up the freezing earth, mixing hay and chicken shit
Then hit the inner grow lights to start the chards and spinaches

Snow out in the backyard, sprouts up in laundry room
I mist them in the morning, even pep ‘em with a talking to
Like “you’s a tiny spring seed, but someday you’ll be autumn food
Cooking on the barbeque or swimming in the brothy soup”
And when the fertile world melts, I head into the sanctum
Ho in hand, pulling weeds, that stretch across the haven
Swing and chop, rip and yank, covered in the sweat and grime
Spreading like strawberry vines to clear the spot and catch the shine

Yeah, you gotta get your knees muddy
And you can’t keep your hands clean
If you gonna have them greens coming
If you gonna do the damn thing
I Said I was in a hard place
I was buried neath a dirt pile
But I found the light in dark days
Pushed up through the ground bearing fruit
The wait is worthwhile

A farmer’s job is never done, no seconds to be negligent
I turn my head and then I’m overwhelmed with pests and pestilence
But when it happens, take a breath, take a moment, take a day
Then work until the body feels them satisfying aches and pains
Knowing that the product and the fruits of all the labors
Won’t be fully realized until a season later
When I can, I run the act across our half an acre
Digging up and digging down until I strike the paydirt

Now there’s lettuce for the salad, so much green, oh my God
Look at that, a bowl of sugar snap peas in a pod
Got some garlic on a tarp, drying deep in the garage
I ring the “come and get it” bell, we be feeding the squad
Me and wifey in the kitchen, we be canning jalapenos
Making pasta sauce and relish we can share with all our peoples
And to pull out of the cupboard when we’re hiding from the winter wind
Sitting round a dinner table, waiting to begin again

If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s some things just wanna grow
We got voluntary sunflowers hanging in the onion rows
Tomatoes in the compost, leeks in the wood chips
A corner overrun by creeping blackberry bushes
Give it time and water, some nutrients, and space and air
With people, add some love and offer up a plate to share
To you and yours, from me and mine, at your service Farmer Dix
I put my muscles, spirit, stomach, mind and blood and heart in this