The farmer can often hear the battles raging
not of politics or of guns, but of broken hearts
and angels descending. The wailing.
Ear to the ground, blood pumping,
their hearts in the earth shifting their spirits
caring, making them more sensitive.
So if you ever see a farmer
with their head bowed
please know he or she,
still prays for us,
one of the few
that prays for the earth.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”