Work Song

WHEN the men work in the fields under a dark moon

sweating & swearing into earth,

my brain is at work too, in my head,

& everything else is worse.

 

‘I come home, my brothers, the moon is full black,

& the seeds have taken root;

I come, & leave promises underground

where bleach white trenches muff sight & sound.’

 

‘I come crawling to you, rubbing the ash

where I pretend you once stood,

castaway among horned branches of grey,

barefoot on your night walks without sleep.’

 

‘You will stand in the dark places I go

shielding your brother from fear

vibrating inside my far-away heart,

echoèd over immaculate hills aglow.’

Reviews

[Bacchus]

Had to check this out since the visual is my favorite of van goghs.
So interesting the parts of us that keep us upright are colorless roots absent of sight and sound...
Interesting spiritual implications there
What is unseen by others is what sustains us.
... Oh to have filled sleep before the break of dawn.