Field of Wheat

Sifting what is learned,

Winnowing field of wheat,

Digesting wholesome good,

A care for what we eat.

Drawn close into the edge,

I touched the kernel grain,

In my heart I made a pledge,

That life be whole again.

Seedy succour of man,

Blowing bullion of Bulgar wheat,

Golden grains of goodness fanned,

Bread of life beneath our feet.

©Philip Holden

2003

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