-------The Sharpest Schythe-------
This tool is sharp and true
like love made through a thunderstorm
when the heavenly fires come to perform
an alchemy of metals and skin.
Sharp enough to cut the buckwheat and the brambles,
and the weeds that have crowded the seeds of our memories
held in muscles and the mind, of a place and its ways
that our soul will never forget.
"Watching you work reminds me of my home,
far away from here"
a dreamland, very real
where hay makes mountains in the fields.
These hands are the snath
is the blade
and this blade is good with death,
tempered thin so to bring life to rest with grace
as it began.
Within the persistence and prayer of this work
with each steady swing,
in the silence,
of this scythe,
the seeds of our memories are saved.
is a good farmer,
too.
-------
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