harvest

. . . . . planting bountiful seeds of tomorrow

we watch the flowers bloom

just before i rest,  see the petals softly fall to the ground

the cold wind whips through the air

and the harvest moon shines brightly;

harvesting my soul,  all done in a day’s work,

the harvest of my life,  what will you reap ;  seek,

and you will find welcoming arms

forever  in the fields of tomorrow,  always a possibility. . . . . .

c. 2004, 2013  BGW

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