There’s things that I find sacred now
as my life’s field I slowly plow;
there’s tiny seeds that I must tend
as in life’s field my back does bend.
So much neglected; left undone –
there’s tiny shoots baked in the sun.
Embrace the soil and crave the rain,
there’s rejoice in the smallest gain.
They are the parts within my being;
it’s taken long for me to be seeing.
These parts are what make uswhole
and should be part of all men’s goal.
Hello cruel world, I’m here to join this circus.
Join 207 other subscribers
- Follow a foolhardy florilegium on WordPress.com
Select a category
- 7,236 hits