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9
The Harvest
<p>I wake before the morning sun,</p><p>Before the day has yet begun.</p><p>With quiet hands, I till the ground,</p><p>Believing hope is always found.</p><p><br/></p><p>I plant my seeds in dusty soil,</p><p>With patient hands and honest toil.</p><p>The rain may wait, the winds may blow,</p><p>But still I trust that life will grow.</p><p><br/></p><p>I've learned that fields don't bloom overnight,</p><p>They ask for faith more than for sight.</p><p>Each little seed I leave behind</p><p>Carries a promise time will find.</p><p><br/></p><p>So when the golden harvest stands,</p><p>I smile and thank these weathered hands.</p><p>For every blessing I now hold</p><p>Was once a seed I chose to sow.</p><p><br/></p><p>The harvest doesn't come by chance,</p><p>Or by a hopeful, passing glance.</p><p>It belongs to hearts that choose to start,</p><p>To those who plant with faithful hearts.</p><p><br/></p><p>~ LISS WHISPERS</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p>
4
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