The Harvest... Poem by Owoeye Taiwo Bisola

THE HARVEST

The earth will open up her mouth to receive our offering of sweats and struggles.
We dig up clumps of earth with our hands, to grow seeds to feed our hungry mouths.
We will grow tiny seeds like stars, sleep will flee from us when she sees our strives.
We will watch and wait for the hour of harvest and it will sneak up on us like the dawn.

The seeds will increase in height and weight, the seeds will become fruits and flourish.
We will detect weeds in our plants and thorns in our roses, we pluck and harvest them still.
The grand orb of light will sprinkle her rays on them, the prickly rods will wash over them.
We will rest our backs on the soil and heave a sign of victory that we came and conquered.

© DECHOSEN1🌹
POET: OWOEYE TAIWO BISOLA