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Poem

Sweet organic scents waft softly 
through the vast and endless valley
where myriads of trees grow in tight rows
marked by long lines of rich, robust soils
that brighten with the rising sun. 

I am happily lost in the incessant sounds
of bees buzzing, working in chaotic order
within delicate white orchard blossoms. 
Their hum is mesmerizing and hypnotic 
my fingers caress the ripe, orange talismans.

Dust and sweat mingle with hard work in this land
as farmhands goad the earth to produce its lot.
Strong arms dig the dirt in endless cycles
tractors leave their distinctive marks
sprinklers water the thirsty ground for miles. 

I can see the valley’s shimmering lifeline 
the wide aqueduct of the San Joaquin river
it flows like a liquid heart with precious water
thoroughly quenching the longing roots 
that grow underground in quiet tranquility. 

Those who work the land know it’s hidden secrets
I am just an admiring stranger, passing through
though I feel I have a small sense of it...a glimpse 
…a place of laboring hands upon the earth 
and a yielding of the elements within its midst.

There is a synergy of land and sky
a curve of the earth that intersects the horizon
a mystical union, a hint of heaven
a clarion moment in time. 






5/15/2021

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