Plowing the fields With Dignity

To wake up early in the morning

with the dew glistening on the

blades of grass and trees.

My Grandfather always relished the

smell of the unpolluted air and the

wind as it move among the corn.

He would sing his favorite spiritual

hymn "Amazing Grace, How Sweet It

Sound", as he hitched his mule to the plow.

Whenever I asked my Grandfather why

he was making ditches in the ground,

his reply would be,

He was plowing the Field

With Dignity.

When I was a child I could not understand

what my Grandfather meant by that phrase.

As I grew older and wiser, I begin to understand

that I too, was confronted with having to plow

the fields with dignity.

These were the fields of racial injustice, discrimination

on every front, destruction of the human spirit

and discontent.

These were the fields that my Grandfather was

speaking about, fields that I would soon

be confronted with.

These battles must be fought with faith, honor,

dignity and tenacity, that I too will be able to

relish the unpolluted winds of change as it

moves slowly but continuously among the hearts of men.

Many changes have come about since my Grandfather passed.

For I must not be content with one good harvest. I must

be dedicated to the enrichment of the soil, that

it may continue to produce for those who are to follow,

that they too, will pick up the reigns, and continue

"Plowing In The Fields With Dignity".

Poetic Reflections

Copyright 2009

By Gamaliel H. Gooding