Give fools their gold, and knaves their power;
let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall;
who sows a field, or trains a flower,
or plants a tree,
is more than all.
John Greenleaf Whittier

Most anyone
can see patterns in tea leaves,
faces in clouds, the future
in a far off gaze.

Crystal balls and tarot cards
can say that anything is so,
I have no way
of knowing.

It’s those
who read the leaves
while they’re still growing,
Those who can see the blight,

the broken stems, the nematodes.
The farmers who walk the fields,
squeeze the soil between their fingers,
take a taste to test acidity,

They
are the alchemists
who feed the hungry.

 

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