Sunflower Poetry

Hope deferred. Hope is late this spring.

Trees push to bloom with leaves barely furled.

No bees yet. Nor butterflies. Where are they?

Birds rustle and bustle. Busy in their avian ways.

Hope deferred. Tears leave their burns on my face.

My heart pushes to find the door. The hallway dim.

No. Don’t lose faith. No. Don’t stop hoping.

I bustle. I rustle. Busy doing busy things.

Hope deferred. Hope is late this spring.

Animals waiting on the green to come.

Fields wait for planting. Pastures for grazing.

We make busy sounds. We make busy moves.

The longing to be fulfilled. A tree bursting with life.

Hope deferred. Hope is the life. The breath.

Hope fills. Hope overflows. Hope is late this year.

The trees ache with the need. The air still chilled.

Dancing dead leaves, last year’s ghosts.

Blooms push past them. They will bloom hope.

Hope comes. Sooner or later. Hope won’t be denied.

I love farming because ________________.

Fill in the blank. Not enough room.

That blank is so small and farming is huge.

So big, so much a part of who we are.

The culture of agriculture runs wide.

It runs deep and it isn’t always smooth.

Farming can break your heart.

And heal it again in one breath.

Farming is a great gamble and

more than that it is great faith.

Seeds in ground. Grow. Or not.

Calves come. Some live(stock).

Some die (dead stock). We go on.

Some quit. Some die.

Some dig in and dig deep.

I love farming because

it is a way of life. Of living.

There is freedom. There is joy.

There are blood and tears.

Heartache and heart break.

Farming can be hi tech.

It can be giver and then wait.

Racing weather. Racing time.

If you don’t love it, you don’t do it.

Farming is all or nothing.

I love farming because

after six generations

it is part of who we are.

It is our work, our vocation.

Our culture and language too.

Not easy. But satisfying.

Not for the impatient.

Not for the glory seeker.

Farming requires your

roots to go down deep.

It takes and we give.

We love farming for all

the same reasons that

some moments of some

days we hate farming.

Farming is who we are

and farming is what

we do. Farming is

what we love.

Ag Now More Than Ever asked the question on Facebook today. This is my answer. Add your thoughts?

Lay dem down.

Lay dem seeds down.

Don go diggin dem up.

Lay dem down.

Lay dem seeds down.

Let God do da growin now.

Lay dem down.

Lay dem sins down.

Don go pickin’ dem up.

Lay dem down.

Lay dem sins down.

Let God wash dem away now.

Lay dem down.

Lay dem fears down.

Don go pickin’ dem up.

Lay dem down.

Lay dem fears down.

Let God carra you thru.