Broken and turned under plough and harrow,
Toil and tilth, time beyond time.
The land waits through weather and season.
Being beauty, knowing nothing else,
It whispers, to those that can hear.
With a hundred thousand quivering ears it listens.
It waits, it listens, with soil in heart,
For you, and your whispering plea.
Break the bread of your certainty,
Spill the wine of your heart,
Pour your grief into the earth,
Cast your dreaming seeds onto the shattered dust,
Dare to let grow the impossible...
