The Cold
sometimes hot, sometimes cold
the winds blow hard or gentle
the sun beats down, or warms the soul
the rains come…, or not…
A springtime day
a touch of frost
when planting should be rolling
seeds stay warm, but in the bag
and in the shed, cozy
The farmer scratches his head
checks the weather, again
drinks more coffee
and thinks about the risks
Precious seeds, precious dollars
are sitting on the line
To plant, or not to plant
bet on the come?
(for lots of things!)
Don’t panic!
Tomorrow will come
always has
when the soil and air warm
to mother the seeds
help them grow, every so quickly
Rest and recharge
touch up the planter
be ready to pull the trigger
But today, step back
wait, be it every so hard
wait
for a better day….
Selah, LIn 36 degrees, May 17, 2011
Chest High!
and was a valid thought
‘Corn knee high
by the 4th of July!”
Well, a new target has appeared:
“Chest high
by 4th of July!”
And ‘we’ do it!
Better understanding
of the soil
(never say ‘dirt’)
and adding plant food
and genetics
and planting machinery
We carefully tune ourselves in
zero in
bringing the symphony to order
Picture the maestro
stepping up on his little platform
batoon raised
gaze intense
every instrument tuned and ready
His arms go up
and the music begins
to the farmer’s senses
a ‘hallelujah chorus’
an epiphany
of praise to the Creator
and the farmer’s chest is swelled
he walks between the rows
looking carefully for problems
bugs and diseases and anything else
that might hold back the plants
To and fro through the fields
his footprints in the soil
Time and again he stops
kneels and studies
from roots to tops
undersides of leaves
feeling the stalks
looking for boreholes
Silent, unmoving,
he waits for insects to adjust
and ignore his presence
It’s a day in the life of a farmer….
Viva la maize!
June 2011, Lin
Memorial Day ’04
leaves of richest green
Sunshine drenching
eager plants
Prairie moments
captured, precious
like all of nature
fascinating!
So complex!
so intriguing
microscopic to thousand acres
little snippits
of grand designing
seen scantly
thru a mirror dimly
then gone
then cascading more
tree branches waving
‘Morning!”
flowers nodding
calling
“See me!”
Robins, finches
scurrying
Summer!
Our hearts desires
of family gatherings
outdoor grills
baseball and golf
volleyball and croquet
Swimming! Diving!
Yet, shadows passing
war
loneliness, violence
loved ones dying
loved ones hurt
noise and dirt
anger and rage and
mankind lost in fury
A staff car arriving
officer coming to the door
“We regret to….”
And lives changed
Lessons to be learned
pondered, and passed on
Remembered
Black Corn!
If the weather is just right
and the corn has great genes
and the soils are supersized (black)
sometimes the corn looks black!
Today is one of those days!
Heavy cumulous clouds are rolling past
and the corn is over the top, growing
so fast, it’s just amaizing!
Dark, dark green,
ever so lush
breezes combing it in waves
it looks like an ocean of green/black!
Add to that silver reflections from waving leaves
and the fields are really sparkling!
What a lovely day to savor, remember!
How I wish you could see it too!
Couched in knowledge
of this food, fiber, and fuel crop
that we are gifted year after year
to the extent we fill our granaries
to their tops
and then pour mountains more outside!
“Hog butcherer of the world!’
How much more, we now grow
and export by giant shiploads
this gifted crop called corn.
In a hundred days
a kernel multiplies
five hundred times….
All that,
and we get to see the ocean
sparkling, green and black.
Lin, June, 2011
Special dedication to Laverl Byers, farmer
and Langston Hughes, “Freedom’s Plow”
and Carl Sandburg, “Chicago Poems”
All Systems Go!
who till the soil, plant the crops, and tend
Each part becomes a symphony
maybe it’s in our genes?
First came the hunters
and then, giant step for mankind,
farmers
the world would never be the same
food, sustenance, year round
A thousand generations later
a few feed themselves
and, in America, 168 others
with food left over
always
I play in the orchestra
a small part, to be certain
but I can see it
the big picture
here and in my travels
Half a century now
I’ve studied and applied
to do it better
efficiency and productivity the goals
and it’s happened
it is happening
Oh, lots of help, comes my way!
I’m in school forever!
Learned folk, focus their skills
genetics, computers, labs and plots
doing their part
to help me do my part
I study, select seeds
my, how the genetics have grown!
Plant them, in a very large garden
with machinery like a dream
Monitor the seedlings, tiny plants
kneeling in the soil
they and I warmed, communion of sorts
guarding them as I can
from disease and marauders
watching, always watching
sun and wind and more
all systems go towards harvest
a hungry world watching
wondering
how will it go?
This springtime morning I’m sitting
Seeds, machinery in storage
On the launching pad
waiting
It’s raining
Oh, so beautiful and soft
mothering the black soil so
filling the cup, I suppose
offsetting the oft dry August
I need grandma back this morning!
At near a hundred she would say
“We’ve always planted, always had a crop!”
her wicker rocker back and forth
her words were often soothing.
I yield to a Higher Power
to some and Invisible Hand
but not to the farmer
God is here, every step
in every thing
and me….
Selah, Lin April (showers) 2011
Surrounded by One
wife snuggled at my side
thinking about her world
Indeed I am surrounded
Each room in our house,
is her expression in fact
In shape, in color, in texture,
her art, laid out for all to drink
Take the laundry, sewing room,
where she cuts and sews and fashions
curtains, clothes, and more
each inch is her design, her choice
The windows look upon
her gardens, her flowers, her shrubs, her trees
but wait! That’s another book! Back, I say, inside,
Through the door and into the bedroom
ours for forty years
The bed, the spread, the pillow cases,
the floors, the walls, the ceiling,
are her, expressed in
shape, in color, texture
The bath? Of course we share it
maybe 90/10, but that’s okay!
I’m a farmer, don’t you know,
my world is ‘outcomes based’
and what comes out, is finely treasured
I’ll skip the other bedrooms
suffice to say they’re hers
to move on down the stairs
Kitchen? The pine wood floor
the cabinet doors, the sink, the fridge
each knife, each spoon, each cup
knows her hands upon them
Every inch, every place, her hands have been there too.
You doubt I am surrounded?
All that is on the outside
inside it’s just the same
She has me all surrounded
Her heart is big enough
for me, for parents, for our children
and then for all they hold dear
We get some chances
to drink in pieces
to glimpse a fine designer,
God
Indeed we are surrounded
if we stop to see
to touch
to feel
Pause, this day,
to think about it
I think you’ll see it too
How love can be
through a person
how we can be surrounded
Praise God
from whom all blessings flow…
Lin 2.10