One day of festering sun
Brought about a conversation
Between a holy deity
And something of man's creation.
Outside a little town,
In a field of growing hay,
A tractor parked with no job to do
Was upset enough to pray.
"Why am I here?" He said.
With nothing for me to tow."
"Why am I here?" He said,
"Shouldn't I just go?"
"Wait" said the other,
"Although you don't believe."
"Wait." said the other,
"Soon enough you shall see."
"But I'm meant to work amidst the hay
Not sit around and rust.
You could help, and yet you don't
I thought YOU I could trust."
"Trust I know what's best for you,
The hay right now can wait.
Your purpose here is more important
It's something truly great."
"I did believe when first you said
That this was in the plan,
But a week has passed and I'm still here
Forgotten on this land."
"So can you blame me when I say:
I don't know what is true.
And even more, I dare to say,
I've given up on you."
So in the field despairingly,
Unused the tractor stayed.
He was convinced his quiddity
From life was doomed to fade.
And then the day did come,
The sky was filled with grey.
A weary worker drove on by
That field of growing hay.
His eyes were weak his heart heavy
His shirt soaked in his sweat.
And on the seat right next to him:
His final work paycheck.
He wondered then what he would do,
Life's comforts seemed defiled,
But when he saw the tractor there
He stopped and stared and smiled.
The field: young, green, and growing.
The sky behind so grey.
The tractor posed so perfectly
amidst that field of hay.
That day filled with uncertainty,
The field's beauty displayed
A picture perfect landscape, thus
The man knelt down and prayed.
"Thank you God for giving me
A beauty on this day.
Before I thought that all was lost,
But now I know I'm okay."
He took a picture to recall
His special moment there,
He had felt God's love that day
Amidst life's lack of care
The tractor watched him drive away,
Stunned tears in his wide eyes.
Turning to God without a word:
Humbly began to cry.
"Now you see," said the deity,
"You're worth is more than hay.
Alone, 'forgotten', in this place
You caused a man to pray."
"Now when you truly run no more:
No gas, no paint, just rust.
The picture that man took of you
Will fuel his want to trust."
Brought about a conversation
Between a holy deity
And something of man's creation.
Outside a little town,
In a field of growing hay,
A tractor parked with no job to do
Was upset enough to pray.
"Why am I here?" He said.
With nothing for me to tow."
"Why am I here?" He said,
"Shouldn't I just go?"
"Wait" said the other,
"Although you don't believe."
"Wait." said the other,
"Soon enough you shall see."
"But I'm meant to work amidst the hay
Not sit around and rust.
You could help, and yet you don't
I thought YOU I could trust."
"Trust I know what's best for you,
The hay right now can wait.
Your purpose here is more important
It's something truly great."
"I did believe when first you said
That this was in the plan,
But a week has passed and I'm still here
Forgotten on this land."
"So can you blame me when I say:
I don't know what is true.
And even more, I dare to say,
I've given up on you."
So in the field despairingly,
Unused the tractor stayed.
He was convinced his quiddity
From life was doomed to fade.
And then the day did come,
The sky was filled with grey.
A weary worker drove on by
That field of growing hay.
His eyes were weak his heart heavy
His shirt soaked in his sweat.
And on the seat right next to him:
His final work paycheck.
He wondered then what he would do,
Life's comforts seemed defiled,
But when he saw the tractor there
He stopped and stared and smiled.
The field: young, green, and growing.
The sky behind so grey.
The tractor posed so perfectly
amidst that field of hay.
That day filled with uncertainty,
The field's beauty displayed
A picture perfect landscape, thus
The man knelt down and prayed.
"Thank you God for giving me
A beauty on this day.
Before I thought that all was lost,
But now I know I'm okay."
He took a picture to recall
His special moment there,
He had felt God's love that day
Amidst life's lack of care
The tractor watched him drive away,
Stunned tears in his wide eyes.
Turning to God without a word:
Humbly began to cry.
"Now you see," said the deity,
"You're worth is more than hay.
Alone, 'forgotten', in this place
You caused a man to pray."
"Now when you truly run no more:
No gas, no paint, just rust.
The picture that man took of you
Will fuel his want to trust."