In times of spiritual drought, when the soul feels parched by the relentless heat of worldly concerns and anxieties that rise like smoke, it is the Earth itself that offers a vital anchor, a grounding force against life’s inevitable tempests. This profound connection to the terrestrial realm is explored in D. A. Powell’s evocative piece, "Spell for Binding the Center to a Center," which serves as a powerful meditation on our fundamental relationship with the soil beneath our feet. Powell eloquently describes the Earth’s multifaceted role in sustaining us, from providing the raw materials for shelter and sustenance to acting as a repository of memory and solace. The poem enumerates the myriad forms of earth: the dam material that harnesses water, the fertile plant medium that nourishes life, the brick paste that builds our homes, the very essence of our sustenance, from the "mother’s greens plucked in winter and served in soup" to the fodder and feedlots that support agricultural economies. It is the "field of unknowing and enfolding," a space where we can retreat and reconnect with our primal origins.
Powell meticulously catalogues the diverse textures and compositions of the ground, recognizing the inherent life and potential within each particle. We are reminded of the "dirt of churchyards and sideyards," spaces imbued with human history and ritual, and the elemental composition of the Earth itself: "the dirt with metal in it, the dirt with oxygen in it, the dirt with water in it, the dirt with clay in it, the dirt with salt and sand and silt." This detailed inventory expands to encompass the more poetic descriptions of soil: "the soil, the loam, the sod, the clod, the gravel, the mud, the muck, the groot, the grit, the ground." Each term evokes a distinct sensory experience and underscores the Earth’s omnipresent and indispensable nature in the human experience. This rich tapestry of earthen descriptions highlights the deep, often overlooked, physicality of our existence and the profound reliance we have on the planet’s fundamental building blocks.
The poem then shifts to an empowering affirmation, urging the reader to internalize this connection and embrace their own terrestrial identity. "I am my earth in the way I want to see it," Powell declares, envisioning a self that mirrors the planet’s grandeur and resilience. This self-perception extends from the "hot core to the frigid reaches," embracing the Earth’s dynamic range of climates and environments. The speaker identifies with the planet’s bounty and generative power, particularly the equatorial regions "where it’s luscious and wrapped in silky clouds, puffy thunderheads, belts of rain and snow." The affirmation continues with declarations of self-nurturing and abundance: "I am my earth that nurses. I am my earth abundant. I am my earth in a sheath of green and blue raincoat." This powerful imagery suggests a protective and life-giving embrace, a metaphorical donning of the Earth’s protective and life-sustaining qualities. This exercise in self-affirmation through elemental connection is a deeply resonant theme in contemporary discussions about environmental consciousness and personal well-being, suggesting that our inner state is intrinsically linked to our external world.

Powell further exhorts the reader to engage in a visceral, physical communion with the Earth. "Hunker down in your earth. Listen to the death in your earth. The life. Listen to the earth under your feet," the poem implores. This call to action encourages a deliberate act of grounding, of consciously engaging with the planet’s rhythms, both in its cycles of decay and renewal. The invitation to "Sit down in a field. Feel the way your ass is supported by the earth. Stretch out against it. Let your legs sprawl over the soft earth. Lie down on the hard earth and press against it" is an almost primal invitation to surrender, to shed the artificial constraints of modern life and experience direct contact. This tactile engagement is presented as a profound act of intimacy: "Touch its dirt the way you would touch a lover. Speak your secrets in the dust." This personification of the Earth as a confidante and beloved underscores the depth of the emotional and spiritual bond that can be forged. The act of sharing secrets in the dust symbolizes a shedding of burdens and a confiding in a timeless, steadfast entity.
The poem extends this intimate dialogue to a reflection on a shared history and mutual dependence. "Talk about how long you’ve been together and how you’ve both tried to save each other. Save each other," is a poignant reminder of the reciprocal relationship between humanity and the Earth. This mutual preservation, this ancient pact, is presented as a continuous effort, a daily recommitment. The suggestion to "Every day come back to the earth and tell it you’re sorry, you’ll do better, you’ll bring your child, your lover, your mother back to visit this spot, this place" is an act of penance and a promise of continuity. It speaks to the intergenerational transmission of ecological awareness and the importance of returning to sacred or significant places that remind us of our origins and our place in the world. This cyclical return, this daily acknowledgement of our dependence and responsibility, is framed as a way to recapture a sense of belonging, a feeling of being "at home in the world today," a sentiment that echoes the wisdom of elders who, like the speaker’s "papa," instilled the importance of remembering where we came from.
D. A. Powell, an acclaimed poet whose works have garnered significant literary recognition, including the Kingsley Tufts Prize for Chronic and the National Book Critics Circle Award for Poetry for Useless Landscape, or Guide for Boys, brings a seasoned and profound voice to this exploration of our terrestrial connection. His ability to weave together the elemental and the deeply personal resonates with contemporary concerns about environmental stewardship and the search for meaning in an increasingly complex world. The themes presented in "Spell for Binding the Center to a Center" are particularly relevant in an era marked by escalating climate challenges and a growing awareness of the interconnectedness of all living systems. The poem serves not only as a personal reflection but also as a universal call to reconnect with the Earth, to recognize its vital role in our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being, and to reaffirm our commitment to its preservation. This piece, published in the March 2026 print edition of High Country News, invites readers to engage with the Earth on a deeper, more meaningful level, fostering a sense of belonging and responsibility that is crucial for navigating the future. The accessibility of such profound essays and articles for republication under a Creative Commons license further amplifies their potential to foster dialogue and inspire action across diverse communities.

