...amber waves of grain
and bringing in the sheaves
and our daily bread
and prairie wind
and the field of opportunity
and threshing floors
and winnowing baskets
and harvesting gratitude...
i sink into the midst of it all.
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Lovely poem, Karen.
ReplyDeleteBack in the day, Bunny told me that when she couldn't sleep she'd envision a field of wheat, and the image of those amber waves served as a settling point for her.
ReplyDeleteBunny was a wise woman.
xo
thanks stacy.
ReplyDeleteand, yes, bunny was a very wise woman. xo