The Farmer

Weary of my travels
I stopped for just a moment
On a road I’d been down before
As a rooster began to crow…
The sun peaked overhead the trees
The cattle commenced to graze,
A farmer carelessly scattered the feed
As baby chicks swarmed to feast
Across the meadow
An eagle took flight
As the farmer’s wife clanged
Her wooden spoon
Against a cast iron pan
While calling out his name

The smell of bacon lingered
Lazily in a breeze
I can’t recall when last I ate
But long I stood across the way
Taking in this sight
It felt as if an hour passed
Before I turned to go
Bending down to retrieve my bag
Reluctant as I was
To journey further down this road

I felt a hand take hold my arm
Startled I looked up
There the farmer stood
Weathered from the sun
Smiling down on me
“Let me take your bag,” he said
As he led me across the road
He whispered in the softest voice…
“All has been forgiven son,
it’s time that you came home.”