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Winter’s
over, Blessed Man
So take
your heart, and set your hand
To the
plow and to the plant
And to the
things you know that can’t
Wait
through spring for Master’s touch
And all
the tasks you love so much.
In
springtime air and summer’s glow,
Start
again the tasks you know
So well,
yet new from springtimes past
And all
the years that left so fast
On the
land you hold as dear
As you
work from year to year.
Summer’s
heat and sunny glare
Then warm
the path that you could dare
To call
your work, with workman’s pride,
That by
sweat and sun is justified.
The sun is
high and holds its gaze
O’er every
stalk of crop you raise.
With each
day and patient care
The corn
you grow begins to bear
The fruit
that’s yours from labor long
From all
the work that’s made you strong.
Brought
with heart and soul and hand
From your
farm where work has spanned
Over
fields and ‘neath the ground
While we
on top can hear the sound
Of human
talk and tractor roar
Resound on
everyday you pour
Your heart
and strength in labor true
Before the
time of work is through.
Fall has
come upon the land
So start
again with hardened hand
Sweaty
brow and sturdy arm
The many
jobs of harvest farm.
Through
ripened field and dusty stalks
The man
that laid the field walks.
He sees
the crop stand ready there
And
harvests corn he raised with care.
So
throughout his land is done
With
pride, the plan that he has spun
Through
time and skill and willing mind.
The marks
of trade that show your kind.
Still are
you the Blessed Man
For your
work upon your land.
You put
away your dusty boots
And,
still, enjoy your hard-earned fruits.
Then frost
fades across your land
And
winter’s over, Blessed Man.
Timothy Weeks is a ninth-grade home schooled
student from Savannah, Mo. |
