Harvest of Souls

A field before me

Bright and gold

A harvest of souls

Rolling pasture

Number untold

My heart yearns to reach out

Reap the trust of these ones

Lost and hurting

But where to begin?

Stop them in the street

Under duress

Hard pressed

To tell them of this love within?

And by the field

Are two trees

One is barren

The other has leaves

Mistakes of the past

Over which one grieves

The other's blossom is a promise

Of continuing life and fruit to come

This is faith

Which can be believed upon.

Back in the yield

Poppies adorn the field

Scarlet and bright

Scars from the fight

But blood is thicker than water

And here is a deeper red flower

It speaks of a death

Of love, of power

A love for the lost

Counting the cost

Reaching and restoring.

And so my harvest is not great

One man in a million

I try, I cry, but it's getting late

What can I do but gather?

Fill both my hands

Hold what I can

And keep holding...  

Joe Morriss

August 2006