Here from my waist, going sailing on for glowing flowing miles---
O beautiful waving gold, O giant Wheat,
My work of thought and hand and ringing dusty sreel,
My ocean of sunlight under the blue sky;
O Wealthy Solitude, perfectioning of love,
My real world's self, promised, fulfilled.
Yes, O Wind, now lightly
Flare out your melodies on these yellow fields,
Earth staff and I bar.
Stir and sway along in holy song of soil and you,
And my great deed between.
O Royalest Song I see,
Whirling away like a hymn from me,
I made you possible, and you fill me,
All around me, waltzing of sweet heads o'er,
Hearing the great plain floor,
"Whispering wonder, glad to be under,
The world's good, this lover of man."
Now soon to burn in long hours of thinking,
In the fueling of builders for the towering towns,
Yes! and with grandest statues of heroic manhood---
Soon! O Wheat, soon!
And one a woman, lookin up, proud, independent.
For rational ideas have been sown,
And very real people choose light,
And the glory of life is re-known,
And the wave of the world is bright.
O Song sailing at my waist,
Waiting my word of thought, my hand, my whirling machine,
My joy of triumph and my love of work;
O Life cresting at my waist,
Copyright © Brian Faulkner | Year Posted 2008
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