Harvest

Great Creator

I see the gift of autumn

in the glory of crimson and gold,

and the abundance of the harvest.

Still the bitter-sweet taste of sage

Flavors all I swallow.

This harvest season

These fields,

the ones that have nurtured my growth,

Are now fallow.

The bounty of their final season

Gleaned.

They are to remain barren.

I believe in the miracle

Of the womb

And the empty tomb

But for today

My eyes see only empty horizon.

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