Fields
I toiled beneath a brutal sun
the sweat drenching my body,
each muscle screaming its protest,
but inside my spirit glowed
because my hands were in harmony
with the very core of my very soul
that flame in my heart,
which only burned
when I was doing what I truly loved.
Didn’t matter the insects or weeds,
nor the fact the field wasn’t mine,
inside I was utterly alive,
completely throbbing in adrenaline from my labor
and every night I laid down exhausted,
yet peace flowed through me,
never feeling happier in my life
from that sense of harmony
where potential found its perfect expression.
Driven by incredible passion
to return those furrows every morning
it was like some narcotic in its power
as it gave me a joy so fulfilling.
nothing deterred me from my euphoria.
When the harvest came
was time that I needed to move on to another soil
while the owner took his crop to reap his wealth,
his face soured and somber
easily telling me there was only hollowness in his prosperity,
For me the intoxication lay in what I did,
regardless of the toys or trinkets I possessed.
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