Forgive the scorching sun
The same dries your robe
And helps your corn
Forgive the rain that drenches
The same brings the lads of the soil
Speedily to your barn
Forgive the night that walks in on you
Bringing no lumen
The same lays you still and curdles you
With symphonies of sweet murmur
Till the travailing day
Comes beckoning like a task master
Forgive and forgive everyone
For the air that aides the whirling
And twirling of the bullying wind
Also serenades you.
From the author of ‘The World is Coming Back Home’.
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