The fields stretch wide under the sun,
a golden sea swaying
to the rhythm of the breeze.
Here, the farmer toils,
his hands earth-worn
with the love of creation,
a testament to the bond
between man and land.
In every seed, a story,
a legacy of generations,
where harvest spills forth abundance
at the end of each season,
a cycle repeated,
a prayer in the earth
dancing with all creation.

• Lanford Wilson