Harvest

the seeds are sown,
the earth is tilled,
the weeds are plucked,
the prayers blown,
and while I wait
in the warmth
of a nourishing hearth,
I don't watch out
for rain clouds
or the perfect sun,
I cuddle in the arms
of my beloved,
cook a simple meal
with a song on my lips,
as he takes me into
an impromptu dance,
and in those sacred pauses
in between,
I catch a dragonfly smiling,
an impatient crow
at someone's window,
bright bubbly ripples
playing 'catch' with the sun,
and a hint of a jasmine bud
upon a hardened stem,
and I thank the Gods
for a harvest I'm given
even while those seeds lie still
in the fragrant earth beyond.