Crop Circles Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Shapes in fields, so neat and grand,
Not just from a farmer's hand.
We ask, 'Who made this, how and why? '
But look a little deeper, with a thoughtful eye.

What do these circles tell us, true?
About our minds, and what we do.
They make us think, what can we know?
Is it real, or just a show?

A trick, a craft, or something strange?
Our minds decide, with doubt's exchange.
We want a wonder, a magic sign,
A yearning deep, for the divine.

Perfect lines, from what unseen?
Can our senses tell us what has been?
A mystery held, in grassy space,
A puzzle for the human race.

They're here a day, then gone so fast,
Like moments fleeting, meant to last
A little while, then fade away,
The fleeting beauty of today.

To see their truth, we must ascend,
From ground below, to journey's end.
A wider view, a higher sight,
To grasp the meaning, pure and bright.