|Jean-François Millet - The Sower|
He set out into the fields,
a man with a singular purpose,
to sow good seed onto the soil.
His garden is well prepared,
but it is bordered by weeds
and the birds of the air are hungry.
His clothing is of no status.
His gait is hindered by tired limbs
and arthritic feet.
His life is to plant,
to offer his gift to the course of existence,
to nourish those who would spring upright from the dirt.
With a gentle motion of his hand
the seed takes flight into the breeze,
scattering like dust.
Is the soil of his field receptive,
or have briars and weeds
rooted in the depths of the ground?
Will some of his offering
land on hard stone,
where there is no dirt to hold it in place?
Will some land where the briars have domain,
to be corrupted in infancy,
before the roots have gained strength?
Will some land where the soil has been tended,
where life will come to blossom
and fruit will be multiplied to feed the hungry?
copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr