Providing for Naomi
- Jessica Jost-Costanzo
- Nov 30, 2019
- 1 min read
Updated: Dec 7, 2019
I stand on the threshing floor, In the busy harvest season. Seed runs through my fingers like water, Yellow air burns my eyes, and dust Gathers at my feet.
I earned an ephah of barley in a day— It is mine, and I take it home to her. It did not come easy; She praises me for my work, and I smile. I am proud of my gleaning.
I search for the meaning of these small pieces, Noting the arch of a worker’s back just before Striking dry barley, Noting the blisters bloody and tender In the palm of their hands,
They will callous; I know that now; That is the work Of the harvest season.
Once, things were given to me, But now I provide for Naomi, And there are joys in that— The quiet behind the sheaves stacked high, And the dark where I long for well-earned sleep.
Tomorrow, I return to the threshing floor; I learn the value of grain.
Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on November 30, 2019