Different Harvest

Father God, this is the time of year
When we thank you for your fruitfulness.
For the wheat with which to make bread,
And the grapes to make the wine.
All over the land, fields are ripening,
And changing from verdant green
Into golden yellow ears of corn.
Ready for the Harvest.

Farms are getting things organised,
With their big machines, readying
To gather in the precious bounty.
Praying that it does not rain beforehand.
Birds are biding their time,
As they wait to share leftovers,
With the mice and other
Small, hungry animals.

Blackberries and raspberries
Are ripening in the leafy lanes,
And many apple and pear trees
Are almost ready to yield
Their tasty fruits, to the pickers.
Yes, Harvest-time is truly
A wonderful time of year.
But, what of a different Harvest?

The harvest of rusty tanks
And cruel barbed wire.
Laying across the very fields
That were once used to grow food.
Together with bloodied bullets,
That have killed so many.
They now only grow
Hatred and fear.

Hidden mines, below the surface,
Still explode, maiming and
Killing the innocents, as
They try to grow food in between
Unexploded bombs.
Instead of joyful, happy faces,
We see only sadness and terror.
The legacy of war, past and present.

Why, Dear Father, Why?
When you created this world
You made it whole —
There were no divisible lines.
No frontiers, no barriers,
Everyone could travel freely
Across the beautiful land
That you created for us all.

Please let everyman's harvest
Be fruitful, Peaceful,
And full of your Love. Amen.

© 2015 Babs Trend