Seasons

Of seasons long ago,

unbeknownst to me.

I long to see

                With field of aching

after long hours of raking.

                The apricot tree, eating

the fruit thereof for need.

Chariots and carriage pulled

by the chestnut horse, and

Plowed following in track.

                Hog high fences rot

and that’s all I need to believe

                In these people of an older time,

I long to be one of them.

Working up the sum

to pay for family with produce.

                Living with and on the land

                Not the foolish man upon the sand.

A foundation of stone and built upon Him.

Without the pressures of politics,

yet still carrying some.

                The time of peace and plenty is yet to come.

As I look unto the son to come again

With fire upon his wings.

And the bounteous angels sing

Their praises to their God and King.

This is the day yet come

I long to see.

Its peace and longing shall always be

A treasured thought imbedded in my head

until I am laid down and dead.