On God’s Grandeur (Poem)

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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. 

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