Well Said, Old Mole

I’ll dive down like a mole

when a dog comes to call.
It is well with my soul.

A mole is slippery like a wet football,
a slog through the snow,
so I’ll dive down like a mole

to where joy presses through
to a lowlier stool.
It is well with my soul.

Worms crawl here too,
but I’ve got diamonds on the soles
of my shoes, and I’ll kick like a mule

until I’ve put myself in thrall
to the One who harrowed hell and paid the toll.
It is well with my soul.

Both shattered and whole,
weevil and bole,
I’ll dive down like a mole.
It is well with my soul.