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The Farm

Has a road to it. For
the living and the dying,
for the distinct sensation
of convenience and order.
 
We live by convenience.
Even the trees cater to it.
Seeds yielding good crop
and we divide our portions,
 
And only the portions
that we desire.
A multitudinous network
of give and take.
 
The farmer in his work,
knows that nature does it all
and learns to be the observer
maintaining the balance of it.
 
Hoping for the sun and good water.
 
Desert.
Wild mutations,
Plague.
Infestation.
Disease.
Ignorance.
Famine.
War.
Disaster.
Poaching.
 
Chaos.
 
 
All of it,
individually,
all at once,
or at least in a lifetime.
 
The farmer, with
a bucket of ladybugs,
releases them like water
as an act of healing.
 
The resourceful land
has mixed and blended
with the newfound inheritance.
Oh Man! Till the earth!
 
And make it work.

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