The dawn will find me
Drawn down the dividing line
Fields lying to either side
Abundant or fallow or aflame
This journey comes
Like a pilgrimage
A prayer to create better
To find doors
That are ready to be opened
And it is all false:
The dreams and prayers
The hopes for more when time forgot
Our place here in this world
But these fields and this soil
The tired limbs and backs broken
By the force of labor
Are more real
Than any creation
I might conjure – Caroline A. Slee