agrarian thoughts

Today I return to work
While my hands are soft
My heart is calloused and strong

My ground is young lives
My seed the Word of life
My water the Spirit

Hard ground needs to be tilled
Thorns and thistles of culture abound
Stones of pain need to be removed

All things seem to fight back
It is a Curse that weaves itself deep
The days can leave you burnt

This work is too much alone
Too often I try on my mine
Too often I forget to drink

Thank you for this day
Thank you for hard work
Thank you for a place to end the day