Joseph Warren Beach

From “On the Land”

I WILL plough the land,

Turning up the black soil.

I will ride upon this heaving surface

As a boat rides upon the water.

Even as a boat

Cleaving the water with an eager keel,

I have run a furrow

Straight across the ridges.

I will sow down this field,

Scattering gems.

With both hands will I scatter

Quivering emeralds out of a bottomless pouch.

As I tread the loam

My feet sink deep.

The black earth embraces my ankles

And clings to my bent knees.

I sing as I go

Scattering emeralds.

The wind sings upon my lips,

And pearls stream off my neck and forehead.

I am bathed in a sweat of pearls.

Eyes straight forward

Rest on a brightening ultimate slope.