We sow our seeds in fertile soil
So they may grow throughout the season,
Then reap rewards aplenty
Proud and joyful of our toil.
I look up to other stars shining
Then marvel at how far they are;
I wonder if perchance there might
Be a harvester in heaven
For we may just be the pods
Of celestial farmers on a field
Who on starry nights look up
Knowing harvest season is near.
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