The Harvest

I have never seen a hunger like the one

That has pushed every last man, woman and child

To take fruit from the giver, like a tree in full harvest.

Hands grab more than they can carry,

And more bites are taken than can be enjoyed,

Like a thousand teeth all at once,

And every branch becomes bare of the life it once held-

Nurturing the sweet furtherance of prosperity.

 

But now as even the leaves are plucked

For tea, and medicines, and decorations,

The wind sounds less like a peaceful shuffle

But more like a sigh of defeat,

As it whips over derelict limbs.

 

If you listen, you can hear the sweet song of new saplings

As they push through the earth around us.

Optimism rings from their growth,

And as their branches climb higher,

Thick and strong,

Hawk eyes watch and wait for the moment

When their harvest can begin.