Harvest Time

It is time to gather, my love
Time to fill our arms with what was
Time to reap all that was promised
And unkept

Time to adjust the rhyme
To a more knowledged time
Time to let shepherds rest
And reflect on the storm
Time to press the grape
Time for the silk-worm to restore
The torn testament of wills
The broken harbor of our hearts

Time to let go of faithless hands
Time to watch the swallows go
Time to kiss the blurried gold of September

It is the harvest time
Some things will live, others must die

Dan Corjescu teaches at the University of Tübingen's "Studium Professionale" program. Read other articles by Dan.