Locusts of Misfortune
What locusts of misfortune
Have swarmed across this field,
Swarmed and swept and swallowed up
Ravaged, raged and recklessly kept
My heart's desires from glorious fruition.
Nothing to reap but woe here.
Nothing to keep or re-sow here.
Turn instead to a foreign soil
Thorny and willful, here to toil
In an honourable fiefdom, a selfless planting,
Scattering God's seed, a prayerful dismantling
Of hurt and doubt and misplaced longings.
Amidst the non-belief the grains fall,
And I, who have no harvest of my own,
Become a grateful tool in a needier land,
A seed myself, cast from a mightier hand.
What locusts of misfortune
Have swarmed across this field,
Swarmed and swept and swallowed up
Ravaged, raged and recklessly kept
My heart's desires from glorious fruition.
Nothing to reap but woe here.
Nothing to keep or re-sow here.
Turn instead to a foreign soil
Thorny and willful, here to toil
In an honourable fiefdom, a selfless planting,
Scattering God's seed, a prayerful dismantling
Of hurt and doubt and misplaced longings.
Amidst the non-belief the grains fall,
And I, who have no harvest of my own,
Become a grateful tool in a needier land,
A seed myself, cast from a mightier hand.