*Illustration credit: peasantartcraft.com
Garlands green of gardens may
Bring nourishment in their decay
So that in spring our Mother Earth
She once again, when sown, shall burst
Runners wild, leaves reach for sky
Spread ‘cross the ground and rise waist-high
This cycle must, no doubt, endure
The only way we can ensure
The land stays primed beneath our feet
Refreshed, the harvest chain’s complete
There must be rest before more reaping
In hibernation lies safe-keeping
Sigh not for stalk that once did flourish
Fulfilled its aim and served its purpose
My hope, I am in service too
Then honoured life shall be my due…
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