I took the long silence
With hands both soft and cold,
Made mid-air trenches
Through endless fields of gold.

There, the future bread so gently lie
The wait, then a pluck and a baking,
Is an epiphany for you and I -
Hunger satisfaction in the making.

Though inner thoughts and yearning
With winds of time, scattered are they,
Featherlight strands with no ending
Lovingly embraces come what may.

I saw a golden horizon, never ending
And quiet storms afar silently fading,
Cool is the air, fresh pure and sweet
As I stand in an endless field of wheat.