Fertile ground yet harvestless
Resting replete with memories of past harvests
Resting in hope of harvests to come
Resting in liminal purposelessness
Verdured with indiscriminate seed:
Weeds, thorns and grasses flourish
Here and there seed from harvests gone by
Push through the choking crowds
With ragged pride to deny any thought that this is abandoned ground.
Break up your fallow ground, and sow not among thorns.