Wednesday, June 27, 2007


Patrick Williams headshot by Patrick Williams

This page and these words grow as each day passes.
Thoughts are a grain of wheat attached heartily to the stalk.
Each word I write moves with the blink of my cursor
Growing and changing with the work of my hands.

I am the one who plants each seed in this field.
Otherwise your mind will starve--- I don’t care if I’m the farmer,
        Just wish I got paid more for feeding you.
Don’t think I’m starving though. I get my food from that same field of wheat.
My brain is the soil and the ideas seed themselves deep each season.
They don’t grow out of my head though. Not much does as you can see.
Stop looking at my balding head! It just makes me look distinguished.
No…my thoughts are planted deep in my brain and need weeding just the same.
Otherwise they become overgrown with information that suck out the nourishment.

Let us see…the sun would be my wife shining down and providing nutrients for my crop.
The moon? My daughter who gently pulls at my heart each day.
The rain that waters my field would be the community I live in; washing away the rot.

I hate weeding, but if I want things to grow, I had better make sure my roots are strong. Like every harvest, the plants that grow may seem the same, but they mature
In different patterns from season to season. I must also keep rotating the ideas, much the same as rotating the fields. Letting some ideas replenish, and others die back during the fallow season.

No one can eat just one grain of wheat and be content.
Mash them into a flour with millions of other grains to make a bread.
The words I write have to be digested with the stanza that you read.
Each person digests these words differently to become full.
Can you see the field of wheat moving in the wind?
This paragraph is a group of words dealing with the same topic.
So I make sure the rows are nice and straight.

        Finally, I have to make my produce look appetizing for you to buy it.
Just like an apple, it needs to be polished and displayed. Don’t worry
about pesticides, my thoughts are certified organic.

Come into my store, take what you like. The price is negotiable.

foggy morning farm

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