It is not yet harvest time
Fruit is still upon the tree
Flections in paradigm
Although in ripened form
I am in calm before the storm
A great peace is over me
In reflection of my nature
Day by day-season by season
In the great nomenclature
Of what I am part of
In the storm
In my own purity
When I transform
Upon the fields of golden wheat
It is nature I shall greet
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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