They sow laughter
In the fields,
And grow joys
From under clouds of earth
Dreams sprout with hands outspread,
Time dances in merriment
To the rhythm of their tools.
Becoming of one mind, one breath, one heart,
Forgetting all troubles and tears.
They are busy,
Engaged in their work.
When they sit down for something small to eat,
The village sits down beside them
And smiling its smiles,
The village begins eating with them.
Smiles and laughter and dreams,
The ears of growing things,
Of blooms of imagination, all
Come to eat with them.
And I write poems.
I, a poet who writes,
Take the grains of their sweat,
Turning those grains into letters.
10:30 AM 15 March 2000