by Luis G. Dato
In the hot sun, the low, damp fields exude
A warmth, a sultriness presaging rain.
The wind no breath of life gives to the plain
And the still branches of the somnolent wood,
Earth’s a tremendous mine in plenitude,
And soon rain, lightning rend the sky again
In torrents that transmute in time to grain,
At cost of thorns and sweat, man’s daily food.
Life-giving rain and fructifying sun,
The trees you make to burgeon, fields turn green
E’en while the rivers in their courses run
Seaward from lakes, springs, hills to flow serene,
And, most prolific mother, fecund wife,
You quicken the warm earth to nascent life.
