Occasional Impressions

The Harvest of the Muse

Tall stands the stubble

Tall stands the stubble in Longacre Field,
unswaying in wind, rain or sun.
The crop has been taken; the combine’s away:
the roots and the stalks, these stay on.

But what will become of this remnant array
now that the corn has been won?
How stands the stubble, so proud in display,
witnessing surely to work that was done?

Now comes the plough in its powerful train
turning the straw to the earth.
Soon new-sown seed will find life in its grave:
after decay comes rebirth.

Tall stands the tower - high, proud in the sun
directing our gaze to the heavenly One.
Proud points the steeple, proclaiming the Son,
witnessing still to a faith that is gone.

What will become of the chancel and nave
now that the people are gone?
Who will preach mercy, forgiveness and love?
Who will come, hear - and respond?

Pray comes the Spirit in powerful train,
turning the past to the earth.
Faith plants its seed once again in the heart:
out of decay comes new birth.
Richard Wakefield

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