The Farmer's at Hand

The promise of reign
     has always poured down,
But the harvest depends
     on the yawn in the ground:
How much it drinks in
     swelling to blessing,
Or spits back out
     no one's left guessing.
Stand in the pouring
     with mouth open wide,
For the time's a comin'
     there's no place to hide.
The crops must stand tall
     across this dry land,
The blade's been sharpened
     the Farmer's at hand.

Hebrews 6:1-12

by J Alan R

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