The ones who spend an hour
kneeling on cold moist earth
stones biting at their knees
early March wind
bothering at their backs
planting peas dried and wrinkled
know what a promise is,
know the love that makes it
know the joy that seals it
know the faith that keeps it
know the hope that binds it
to the harvest, yet to come.
~ George Pasley
poet and pastor, rural Kansas
summer/fall 2001 InSpire
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