Fallow Soil

Far across the vacant landscape, a restless farmer wanders sowing
As he watches from his homestead, what he planted is not growing
Rising, he surveys the ground and finds it barren, as if sleeping
Patiently, he listens to the earth to hear its bitter weeping

What has happened in my absence to my precious planted vineyard?
Selfish servants failed their tending, turning thought and focus inward
Without their cooperation, still my plan is moving forward
What once was will be again when i renew my blessed orchard
Though the land be dead and fruitless, there is hope yet for its sighing
Where the birds flew, i built a scarecrow, arms outstretched to ward their flying
Where the rocks made soil shallow, i removed them from their sources
Where the thorns grew, i ripped them up and wove a crown out of their corpses

I saw the stones buried in the ground, carved with images of faces proud
Clutched in a hand naught but bone, for life cannot sprout from stone
I watched the vultures circle in the sky, revealing where the carrion lies
Where the bodies were taken away on the bloodstained rapture day
I saw the chaff and the choking weeds, swallowing light with ruthless greed
Their fate is on the threshing floor to be trampled forevermore
I watched the fields at first light, driving away the cloak of night
The kernels that fell and were crushed began to reach out to the sun

What will i do with your barren hearts?
I will till and i’ll plow to turn over the ground
What will i do with your fallow souls?
I will sow and i’ll reap sixtyfold for my keep
What will i do with your barren hearts?
I will till and i’ll plow to turn over the ground
What will i do with your fallow souls?
I will sow and i’ll reap a hundredfold for my keep