deepundergroundpoetry.com
Harvesting
There is a way to open your body
to the land, like a lover.
There is a way to read the mood
of the soil, like a prophet.
Out here, crows are omens, and clouds
ambassadors of the August sky.
There is a way to synchronize
your pulse, to learn the cadence.
This is the only way
to fill your basket.
*Note: This poem also appears in Vintage Poetry:
http://vintagepoetrypublishing.blogspot.com/2011/10/poetry-by-lauren-tivey.html
to the land, like a lover.
There is a way to read the mood
of the soil, like a prophet.
Out here, crows are omens, and clouds
ambassadors of the August sky.
There is a way to synchronize
your pulse, to learn the cadence.
This is the only way
to fill your basket.
*Note: This poem also appears in Vintage Poetry:
http://vintagepoetrypublishing.blogspot.com/2011/10/poetry-by-lauren-tivey.html
Published 15th Nov 2010
| Edited 3rd Oct 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 4
comments 7
reads 1304
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
15th Nov 2010 9:54am
I see in the poem an obsession for farming; loving the occupation with body spirit and soul. Of course..."This is the only way
to fill your basket."
I must confess that your poems are special.
to fill your basket."
I must confess that your poems are special.
16th Nov 2010 2:17am
15th Nov 2010 12:33pm
15th Nov 2010 12:38pm
There is so much primitive understanding in this...but it goes beyond understanding, and dives into something like a transformation. You capture the feeling of endless space...i really, really enjoyed reading this.
16th Nov 2010 2:18am
2nd Dec 2010 2:35pm
Harvesting is such a solid poem. I love the sort of bigger than the world reassurance that communicates, at least to me, a sense that human being, for all his or her ego, is still wondrous...still valuable. Somehow, the assertions here do their work brilliantly, as "the only way to fill" my "basket" of longing, is to trust the poem's solid ability to guide me "out here, where the crows are omens," so that I might be blessed by the courtesy your poem shows when it delivers on its promise to "open" my "body to the land, like a lover." This poem transfers it's promise beautifully. Cheers.
4th Dec 2010 00:33am
