Friday, July 2, 2021

The Fields of Righteousness

The Fields of Righteousness,
Plowed with a hand that turns not back;
A higher plain of consciousness,
And a harvest of understanding it does not lack.

The rains fell in the spring,
The sun shown in summer;
All day long the workers sing,
For the diligent seldom slumber.

Grapes for wine,
Olives for oil;
If we take our time,
Patience won't spoil.

The earth was tilled and watered,
And in the soil a seed was sown;
Yet in its branches no fruit was offered,
For the tree had not fully grown.

Time and times and half a time,
Then a few buds were seen;
As God Himself had drawn a line,
Through the banks of a living stream.

Then the juice of meditation,
Ran down to the roots red and ruddy;
For the tree had matured through application,
Just as a man's wisdom is the fruit of study.

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