Image: Fancy Farm, Kentucky
Summer steam
washes us clean
like a warm bath
as we wade through young fields,
new corn waist high
to where blue sky
meets the rustling green sea.
We navigate by dead-
reckoning to the red barn.
Wary of snakes,
with flailing stick you flush
out the tall, quick hares.
Feathers flashing, quail
burst heavenward at
our clumsy approach,
but in the dark barn
we find
forgiveness.
God's own light streams down
into fragrant stalls
as wise eyes
regard us.
We reach out to touch.
They nod,
first in warning,
then with bright approval.
(6 Feb 2012)
(6 Feb 2012)
beautiful description ...
ReplyDeleteI so love this. So rich with imagery I felt I was there - I especially love entering the barn - horses have such peaceful energy and very wise eyes!!!! Loved this poem.
ReplyDelete"We navigate by dead-
ReplyDeletereckoning to the red barn."
Well, this poem is a lovely, forgiving poem, but I honed in on the line above. How often we would ride in the farmers fields (horseback) and as the corn grew - we could barely see above the silky tails - and boy, the horses really tried to grab a few treats. A number of times we got lost... :)
Wonderful words
ReplyDeletebrings back great memories of my grandparents farm,
harvest, the smells of the barn
very nicely done
Thank you for showing me this so vividly. The love is all through it.
ReplyDeletenice wording,
ReplyDeletethe imagery of red barn and past scars forgiven are wonderful.