CAST IN FALLOW FIELDS
To feel the neck beneath the yoke
by weight of troubles bearing down
on course beyond an orbit known
with slow detail in probing mind
laid bare and plucked of all but bone.
Time lost by those who yearn the past
with futures curtain still undrawn
nor washed afresh by dews of night
as yet unfound the twisted threads
that scout unravelled destiny.
Planted thoughts soon summon growth
when sown by hands of consequence
and set in folds of virgin soil
the future cast in fallow fields
as if by natures grand design.