Cycles of time
weathered days and full moons
commands the craftsman of its homeland
trying to change this landscape
to nourish mankind
he watches over the passing of the days
knowing its worth
fog and mist
dust and earth
this fertile soil
these defiant roots
become brilliant clarity
and in the waking light
blossoming waves wash over emerald beds
mirroring summers last warmth
and under a harvest moon
fields of gold start to slumber
and the soil asks for its rest
the air sighs a cooling breeze
and with its last turns of the weather vane
asks the noble cultivator
to paint the canvas again