Where Hasn’t Voracious Hunger Farmed? - Poem by Mark Heathcote
Where hasn’t voracious hunger farmed?
Pulling its weighty harnessed plough,
Peasants working, sleeping only,
Only, when, their masters allow…
Only, when, their landlord agrees.
Then, they can lay low & swallow
Hungry as field mice & blood thirsty flees
Only, finding comfort in the Tao.
And hope that they shall also one day
See & taste their golden harvest
And witness all their tables full laid
Before chaffs are thrashed to rising doughs incarnate.
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