I am farmer
I celebrate the seasons of my life
I love the dance to the winds in my storm
and i stare at the rays of the sun in the sky

I pride in the joys of these season
that come with blue berries and pine some other times
these colors they bring i treasure all
and i learn to say
Am a proud farmer

Diligently sowing through my nose
and tilling the lands for my next yield
pacing after the sounds of the ox plough
and driving all mine energies through them

And just as the sprout begins
through my window of anxiety
the winds rough with anger
and clatter my window pens to pieces

Its morning now
and i walk through the shambles in my garden
and the sign of pain from the ground
as my feet sweep through this once upon dream
and my blistered hands hold my fallen face

But Lord, Draw me new blue sky
and send just a little rain
so sickles will sing the song of bliss

And indeed, the season goes and the season comes.
I till the fields again
and believe that grass will grow.

The rains have fallen
and the sun has risen.
Not to cloud my morn
but make me say
I am a proud farmer.

With Love From Alison