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The Harvesters, by Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Robert L. Martin

Driven

Driven
 
What am I alone with silence on my wings?
A wounded bird locked in a gilded cage
A ship on the high seas without a rudder
A dream left alone to sink into the abyss
 
While boredom creeps through my veins
It moves into spaces once stuffed with dreams
Singing a song of labor and passion fulfilled
“Rise up and go with the soul of the earth
To do thy labor assigned to you at birth”
 
With gardens and orchards in their abundance
Waiting for me with my hoe and my basket
I rise and go with their melodic commanding
And march in proud submission to their chant
Mother Earth drives me along
But what am I without her?

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