In spring they wondered why
I toiled my days away
Clearing land and raking hay.
Why I turned the sod and raked
The soil so fine, reverently like
Combing the unruly hair of a
Child of mine.
They shook their heads when
I knelt with smudged check and
Dirt encrusted nails,
To gently pat a seed in place
And say a prayer to make these
Seeds not grow in vain.
Later, as I watered , spaded and sprayed,
My good friends, impatient,
Turned away.
They could only see a stubby
Piece of land.
My faith endured, and when the
Harvest came, their jealous eyes,
Feasted upon the lavish beauty,
I had visioned in my mind
the cold winter through.
I toiled my days away
Clearing land and raking hay.
Why I turned the sod and raked
The soil so fine, reverently like
Combing the unruly hair of a
Child of mine.
They shook their heads when
I knelt with smudged check and
Dirt encrusted nails,
To gently pat a seed in place
And say a prayer to make these
Seeds not grow in vain.
Later, as I watered , spaded and sprayed,
My good friends, impatient,
Turned away.
They could only see a stubby
Piece of land.
My faith endured, and when the
Harvest came, their jealous eyes,
Feasted upon the lavish beauty,
I had visioned in my mind
the cold winter through.
