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The harvester’s Prayer:
Before the first burn of oil, among the twilight
Waking to the image of golden field of wheat blinding to the early bright
Harvest spins spewing tar and blue smoke weaving to the left then right
So start the day of servant of god, we knee and pray towards the light
Out in the horizon the flowers carry our souls to the processing up from earth
The spinners buzzing in and out while fliers carry workers back and forth
Into the harvest, a moving town built on grain, sweat and worth
Where credit is wheat, our life, and it’s in our heart to mouth
As soon winter noon come for our bones. Amen
The harvester’s Prayer:
Before the first burn of oil, among the twilight
Waking to the image of golden field of wheat blinding to the early bright
Harvest spins spewing tar and blue smoke weaving to the left then right
So start the day of servant of god, we knee and pray towards the light
Out in the horizon the flowers carry our souls to the processing up from earth
The spinners buzzing in and out while fliers carry workers back and forth
Into the harvest, a moving town built on grain, sweat and worth
Where credit is wheat, our life, and it’s in our heart to mouth
As soon winter noon come for our bones. Amen