In the silent whispers of the morning kiss
Beneath still breezes laying heavy on the barren field
The cattle are all huddled together lowing softly
taking comfort in the cold autumn morning
beyond the field and dancing waves of grain
empting themselves again and again
in harvest moons, now since past
The farm house sits, buffeted by
thick firs a family, a copse of trees.
On the cusp of this morning
The sun is lazily taking its time to rise
While the duties of the farmer is long over due.
Now rife with cup, steaming in pre-dawn briskness
Hand grasping the responsibilities passed down
From father to son to son again
He walks into the day
His office with a view
John Deere for a desk
Overhauls for his three piece suit
With more at stake than corporate interests
And stock portfolios.
In the silent whispers of the morning kiss
His feet, crunching sun burnt grains
Will begin again, taking each stride
One moment at a time
Ready to stretch God’s grandeur
Further and grander than his yesterdays.
Pastor's Ponderings 
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