fields of sweetcorn towering in the sun

gathered in close–not set row upon row 

like my grandfather used to make

in a place that required irrigation

to enable plants to grow

 

the word that comes to mind

as i soak in this ample scene

is one i would use to describe a place

we have access to—but forget to live as if we do

 

it is

abundance

like this field before me

like the dreams of our ancestors

like all the things

a wonderous bounty of things

we casually hold

and may not even notice

or just clean forget

 

yet each of us holds enough space

in our hearts

to cradle all of this

 

–be aware of and count your many blessings

 

Heather Pound 2024

Photo by Demian Tejeda-Benitez on Unsplash