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North American Dreaming: The Sowers Tree

William Burkholder’s evocative poem conjures up a picture of peaceful fertile plenty.

Capture the essence,
the aroma of the glade,
the grass waving gently,
in the breeze of summer's parade.

Feel the wheat tops brushing your hands,
grasshoppers flit and jump,
The rustle that comes to your ears with each gentle gust, bending the grains and eying the sower's tree,

That single sentinel left in field,
where block and tackle tied,
cleared the field of brush and stone,
to make way for planter's seed.

The grains bow down to sower's tree
to thank her for her grace,
to adorn this land of wheat and grain,
this field of golden lace.

**

Do please visit Troubadour21 magazine which Bill co-edits.
www.troubadour21.com

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