Farming is forever humbling
Awake into a day that never ends
Time forever reminding you
That it stops for no one.
Death surrounds us
That ceaseless burden of seasons
At once begun and thus ending
Bringing with her death, decay, rot,
As well as growth, shoots, greenery
Catching and holding on to
Each ember of light
Allowing it to stay alive
And if, for some unseen reason
Light decides to shift away
Blocked out by some larger tree
Or shifting season
It is the humbling reminder
That our time is as once fresh
And mingled so tightly with death
That in the event our labour slows
A creeping natural chaos shall ensue
Taking hold of every dream
We ever dared to live towards.
And when you think that the day is done
When the sun has gone down
And invisible snipes roam the skies
Processing, dishes, last checks,
Predators, water,
The day is never done
To give you one last breath
Before you close your eyes
And say goodnight to no one
Since all have already found rest.