Fallow Field Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

Today I saw a fallow field
Where last year rows of grain had grown
On warm earth resting from past chores
Dry reeds now formed a gentle shield

It called to mind a wayside wood
Where under brambles' silent gaze
A haunting lover tried and failed
To woo me and be understood

Too long had I heard pounding sounds
Of trucks and tractors tilling land
Brash motors buzzing day and night
Collecting wheat in giant mounds

My soul yearned for a different food
That neither corn nor wheat nor grain
Could satisfy my restless life
That somehow languished in lone woods

A yearning overwhelmed my breast
To run away to distant coves
A place where evenings never end
And bruised birds rest in broken nests

Where are the morsels I need taste
Not harvested from fertile rows
Small seeds in forlorn fallow fields
Farmhands on tractors call a waste

This feeble poem is my cry
Trickling in drops of fragile words
An unheard wail expressing pain
Of love that wilted and may die

Is there a force that makes things grow
A something that may bring relief
For tread down soil and torn up hearts
Unfit to plant or till or sow

Where lies a shelter for dashed hopes
Lost love to bloom against all odds
Where clumsy wooing turns to joy
Freed from abuse of long held ropes

Is it too late to seek that quest
Awakened by a damaged soul
Oh let me hope that fallow field
Will show me where my healing rests.