Hallowed Ground

I remember well the small farm scene Where a man driving a tractor through the wide open Field was doing all he could, hoping The clouds might bring rain. Tomorrow would be none too soon And afterwards, he said, “We could laugh and dance As if this was the last chance To plant seeds and make romance under a bright, full moon.” I watched him get down off that big machine And sift through the ground like He were looking for gold despite The fact he was searching for something more like a dream. Deeper down into the ground I watched him scratch with hands and spade Feverishly as the sun set slow Turning himself to a golden glow Until I watched him rise up and say: “This ground is hallowed here today.” Then abruptly he turned back towards home With a smile from eyes to ears (And later I would hear) This was a land of love and tears where Indians once lived and roamed. I still remember well the small farm scene Where a man driving a tractor through the wide open Field was doing all he could, hoping He might find something besides the rain.