The rock
Posted: Sun Aug 11, 2019 6:45 pm
There's a large rock in a field,
the farmer could remove it,
gain a little more profit
from the extra seeds...but he doesn't.
He wastes time working around it,
spends a little more on diesel
and each time he navigates around it
his harvester wears down more than his neighbour's.
Stand on top of it
and scan the surrounding landscape...what do you see?
Pristine fields...not another rock in sight!
Time hasn't softened it.
It's a jagged thing, most think it ugly,
but you'll often find him leaning against it
or from a distance, gazing upon it.
Is it respect, a reminder
of the blood, sweat and tears his forefathers spent
removing stones to create a field good enough
to feed their families?
It's that...but much more.
He has of course pissed behind it,
isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart,
or when God took yet another of his family
and he was too shy to cry in public.
It was a shield when shame embarrassed him,
every fold of it was as familiar
as the callouses on his hands.
And when he discovered 'the one'
it became their meeting place.
Every Summer wheat's gentle caress
encircles it,
when Autumn comes
and the surrounding fields disrespect nature
with unnatural parallel lines,
his curve beautiful around it
in sensual brush strokes.
It punctuates his life,
stamps his lineage on the land,
it's an anchor and a reminder, that
only on reflection
do we see where the real obstacles lie.
I've been asked to recite a poem at a friend's book launch in October...'Discover your Inner GPS'
It's an interesting read. She 'died' for 20 minutes during the birth of one of her children and is now a life coach, among other things.
She's a lovely person...don't know if asking Dr. Death to write a poem for the occasion was a good call though
This is my first effort, and she hasn't read it yet.
the farmer could remove it,
gain a little more profit
from the extra seeds...but he doesn't.
He wastes time working around it,
spends a little more on diesel
and each time he navigates around it
his harvester wears down more than his neighbour's.
Stand on top of it
and scan the surrounding landscape...what do you see?
Pristine fields...not another rock in sight!
Time hasn't softened it.
It's a jagged thing, most think it ugly,
but you'll often find him leaning against it
or from a distance, gazing upon it.
Is it respect, a reminder
of the blood, sweat and tears his forefathers spent
removing stones to create a field good enough
to feed their families?
It's that...but much more.
He has of course pissed behind it,
isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart,
or when God took yet another of his family
and he was too shy to cry in public.
It was a shield when shame embarrassed him,
every fold of it was as familiar
as the callouses on his hands.
And when he discovered 'the one'
it became their meeting place.
Every Summer wheat's gentle caress
encircles it,
when Autumn comes
and the surrounding fields disrespect nature
with unnatural parallel lines,
his curve beautiful around it
in sensual brush strokes.
It punctuates his life,
stamps his lineage on the land,
it's an anchor and a reminder, that
only on reflection
do we see where the real obstacles lie.
I've been asked to recite a poem at a friend's book launch in October...'Discover your Inner GPS'
It's an interesting read. She 'died' for 20 minutes during the birth of one of her children and is now a life coach, among other things.
She's a lovely person...don't know if asking Dr. Death to write a poem for the occasion was a good call though
This is my first effort, and she hasn't read it yet.