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Ready for the latter rain...
Plowed fields wait,
Oxen rest from yoke and
goad,
All bagged seed in wagons
sit,
parked at every field's far edge,
And all farmhands adjust
their shoulder straps to carry
the weight of seed soon to fill
up their deep leather satchels.
A wide broadcast
must all seed be,
every furrow full.
Watching the crops grow...
First the leaf blades
push through the soil,
Next all heads
rise and take shape,
And the kernels within
ripen in welcome ears,
Then grain at the last,
the sickle held high aloft
will reap the harvest's best.
Grainfields wave
for they know well
the kingdom is near.
Storing for the wedding feast...
Cut stalks, gathered upon
arms,
borne by the strongest of these,
and bound tightly into sheaves,
Marched to the threshing
floor,
then gleaned, winnowed and
sifted to the last hint of chaff,
Only the granary awaited,
and the plates for each guest.
In the end, there will be
a yielding for ears that hear,
and the bride will be kissed.
Mark 4:20-34
Jeremiah 50:16
Joel 2:23, 3:13
Psalm 129:7
Matthew 22:1-14 |
