agonia
english

v3
 

Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii Românesti - Romanian Poetry

poezii


 


Texts by the same author


Translations of this text
0

 Members comments


print e-mail
Views: 4279 .



My Grandpa and his Field
personals [ Journal ]
A Rural Homage

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Songo ]

2005-10-13  |     | 



It is a sunny spring morning, in a blessed and fruitful land.

I see my grandfather, a man I call simply "granpa", proud of his cornfield, full of love for the land he works, the land he lives in and lives for. There is an expression of peace, health and wholeness in his face, in all him.

As my "granpa" looks at his field, I can smell the fragrant nature, the green leaves, the fertile yet wet soil, as well as the centennial trees yonder.

It is not crop time yet but patience and endurance shall bring my "granpa" – as they always have – a well-earned wealth and food to feed the mouths of the hungry ones.

I talked to my "granpa" this morning and he told me how much he loved this land, our land he added, the one he knew so long ago, the place where he settled down after getting married with my "granma". This place he has made flourish for 60 years now, with his will, forbearance and devotion.

I asked my old man, my dear "granpa" that if he could leave this place, Would he do it? Justo Antonio Trejos Trejos looked at me behind his glasses, his eyes as clear as a peaceful ocean, gleaming a smile, and kindly yet firmly voiced a "No".

"Can´t you see my dear son" he told me "that I am here for my own freewill?" He added that he could leave this place anytime, that he never left not because he couldn´t but because he wouldn´t, he simply never needed that.

I asked my dear "granpa" for an explanation, as we both looked at the cornfield under the sun, in a mystical synchronicity. I started to understand inside my heart.

He stared back at me and explained as I asked: "Son, I am one with nature, the birds, the sun, the land... In addition, I have learned to view the life process in my farming: You sow the seeds, you pour love on it and when did all you had to do, all you are left to do then is
waiting patiently until the fruits are due. Son, this is the peace and patience I need... All This I will miss to death if I leave this place..."

Then and only then I could understand the old man, his fields, his loyalty to them... the faithfulness of "granma"... How they took care of all their children, grandchildren, the way they respected our freewill to
flee the countryside and get a life into the cities... So, the least they expect from us is our comprehension.

And I understood..


.  |










 
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!