Gods of the Harvest

Shades of the prairie autumn again. Since we are in the fall or autumn of the year, I thought I would share another seasonal poem and a few memories. When harvest was done, we looked forward to the coming winter with mixed feelings. If the harvest had been good, we would have lots of food to fill our needs, our home would be warm and snug, preparations would have made for our animals, and yet- there was the anticipation for me, as a child, to see the first snow flake of the season; make the the first snowman; wear that new (hand-me-down like as not) coat. But there was the other side of the coming season - short days, long nights and a winter that would be cold and, sometimes seemed to go on forever! But I digress.
This poem is about activities that took up much of our waking time throughout the fall.
But there were also fun things to do - like scuffing my way through a pile of red and gold leaves, or even jumping into the middle of them and rolling around like a queen in her royal bath! I marvelled at how the animals began to prepare for winter, with the thickening of their coats, and sometimes with even a colour change! Fall was a time of flux - not quite winter but beyond the warm days of summer. A time of crisp mornings sometimes with a skim of frost on everything. A frost that made the grass sparkle with diamond crystals, Diamonds that melted away as the morning sun found them. Because the sunlight peeked into my bedroom later, and later each morning, it became just a little harder to leave the cozy nest of my bed. Ah, those wonderful bygone days of autumn!


GODS OF THE HARVEST

Every fall was the same
Spattered across prairie fields
Were big metal gargoyles
Brought out to honour
The gods of the harvest
For just a brief time,
The worshipers filled up the maws
Of these hungry beasts with sheaves of wheat
They hoped the gods would be pleased
they hoped for bounty this year.

Faster and faster those worshipers worked
And faster and faster those
Greedy gods gobbled their gifts.
Sometimes the return
Was most lavish;
A benevolent reward
For a work well done
The old harvest gods seemed to say.

Sometimes tho' the return was so sparse
It brought tears to the eyes
Of those diligent servants.

The old harvest gods didn't care!
They'd had their rewards
Those simple folk got
What they deserved.
The gods seemed to say.

Wait just a minute!
What's this?
Those simple folk are
Putting the altars away!
They're working together
To make this season
The best it can possibly be.

Greedy gods go into the barn
Until next year's rewards are about due.

Fields are just stubble now
The hard work is done.
The race against whims
Of dear Mother Nature
Has been won – for this year.
Surveying the handiwork
The farmers enjoy the ripe beauty
Of this, their beloved – the land.
SFS