The Farmer

the farmer

Rise out of bed, gentle farmer,

wander outside and behold,

all of this storming has softened the land,

each of your seeds have since grown.

All of your effort sustained them,

see all the fruit of your toil,

do not remain shut away in your room,

join me and share in this bounty.


Come out to take up your throne,

dreaming farmer queen,

the earth gives way for your steps,

bring them to be knelt before.


All of the sweat you’ve invested,

letting the blood of your soul,

breaking the ground with those dreams of tomorrow,

sewing your hopes into soil.

Finally, harvest is cometh,

each fruit, though, rots on its vine.

Troublesome weeds have discouraged your heart,

muting the suns of your eyes.


Sunshine and rain have persisted,

absent empress blue,

sprouting things break ground, despite you.

Let them now dance for you.


If you no longer take interest here,

let them return to the land,

ripening berries will feed cunning crows,

fallen ones nourish the soil.

Should you discover a hunger, though,

if we still share in a dream,

come see the bounty that grows here for you,

know that the dream liveth on.


I’ve been here digging and mending,

sovereign vanisher,

don’t wait for healing to find you there,

heal by the lessons you’ve fled.


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