Through fields of golden grain, the winds carry laughter, songs of the harvest, echoing the spirit of the soil.

Every stalk a promise, every ear a testament to the labor of hands, to the rhythm of the earth, connecting us to the roots, of all that is life.

Let us celebrate the bounty, the warmth of the sun, for in this fullness, we find the essence of who we are.

• Ayi Kwei Armah