March 31st, 2011
Beyond angles in the eye,
Yonder upon yonder
Past town after dead town
Sprawling city to empty industry
From arctic to tropic
The fields flow so far,
Searching every corner
Every mountain
Every clime to find
The one who would pine
For their endlessness
Of numerous crops
Varieties both common and unique.
More often than not the fields’
Endlessness has matched the search
For its caretaker.
Is the tillage too intense?
Densities too high?
Microbes lacking diversity?
Ubiquitous is their denial,
Yield decreasing after each
Comes, stays, goes.
Extents shrink to scales,
Desiring more and more
The hoe of one concerned
Or the scythe of one interested.
If there be no direction from one who can see
The fields for their unending
Work and promise
Then for a worker for whom to yield
And benefit, a companion unafraid to lay hands
Upon the earth and take what it gives
With all its structure and fertility and stalk
Year after year,
Only needing gentle tending—a harvest,
Desiring a season of bounty.
No comments:
Post a Comment