This Field

This field I trod upon.
This field I plowed.
This field I dragged and disked.
This field I cultivated and harvested.

I sunk my bare feet into it’s soil.
I watched
....It’s corn grow,
....It’s wheat turn golden,
....It’s soybeans ripen in the pod.
I mowed it’s hay.
I sweated under it’s sun.

Watched the rain soaked up by it’s cracked ground;
Watched the evening mists rise upon it;
Watched the snow driven by the wind over it’s stubble.

Seeing it’s fence line silhouetted against the moon;
With the stars glittering as diamonds
And pearls against the velvet night.

This field holding early years of my life;
This field where I worked, thought, prayed, laughed, wept.
This field, a part of my life not forgotten.
This field, a part of my heart and being.


(September 8, 1998, Copyright © 1998. All rights reserved.)