Watching a Farm Awaken

I love the way a farm awakens
especially in the early spring
How it knows to be itself
Just like the faded red barn knows
there is nothing but the moment
What we see between sips of morning coffee

I love the morning songs cardinals sing
Chips and whistles carried by the wind
Who isn’t spellbound by how
the darkness slowly gives way to light
How the old barn never complains, or begs
for a fresh coat of red paint

I love the way the morning fog hugs low places
in the still unplowed fields
Where soon fresh ears of corn will grow
And crows will wait in anxious clusters
Sumptuous meals, Heaven’s delight

Yes, I love the way a farm awakens
especially in the early spring
There the soul knows no boundaries
Its vastness spreads in quiet repose
Across a to be defined horizon
Painting a pretty picture, a new day begins

Author: Don Iannone, D.Div., Ph.D.

Biography Writer, photographer, poet, and teacher. Holds doctorates in Divinity and Metaphysical Philosophy. Author of 20 books, including seven poetry books, nine photography, and four nonfiction books. Contact Information Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com

One thought on “Watching a Farm Awaken”

  1. This is the time of year I miss Marietta the most. I too love the farm awakening- the smell of the earth being tilled, the birds singing and looking for the worms. I love walking each day seeing the nwe growth
    Thanks for the poem!

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