Feeding herons looked like bits of paper
Strewn randomly on a chartreuse green carpet
A teasing array of clowns for the farmer
As time for sowing seedlings is now set.
The season's cycle marks days of our existing
Life's circle knows its course just like birth and death,
A time for growth and perhaps some grain-bearing
Then the sickle comes to harvest as the end is met.
All Rights Reserved ~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~04.21.14
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem