Green Ricefields Poem by RIC BASTASA

green ricefields spreading to a distance
some white herons circling and landing finding a hiding place
for a while gone and then the wind comes from the trees swaying

the white herons in a flock of fives fly away again
to another rectangular spread of a green ricefield
a scarecrow stands in the middle of the place
the clouds arrive turning from pale to grey to blue
the sun has come in full grandeur

i am just amazed, sitting on a bench praying
simply watching and wondering
they all say that i am lazy and doing nothing