We arise to the vibration of dawn, stirring awake, through the vocal cords of the birds. We look out into the distance, beyond the horizon, and beckon the Sun. Gently it climbs, with its orange hue spreading across the land, penetrating and removing the dusk. We turn our backs to the majestic light and walk out, to our fields, to give mother earth, its morning meal of seed.
We dance and sing to mother rain, to quench mother earths thirst. The seeds give birth, to plants, the latter reach up and out, spreading their winged leaves to eat of the sun. We air the soil, working out the body and mind, and laugh at the past, our driving 2 hours to the gym, to work the machine. We are one, with our mothers of nature, as we give to them they give to us. In the distance cattle herders, whistle sweet notes to our stock of life, who graze with pride, fearing neither man nor predator. Our hoes strike the ground putting beat to our work song, as we all day long, tend our fields.
The earth moves the sun slowly and gently from east to west. The birds begin their homeward flight, the sun has moved from our backs to our eyes, so we turn after one last salute to the fire in the sky, and turn our backs to it, as we follow the birds home. The aroma of food flavored smoke greets our tired and stress free bodies as we, edge closer to our home, sweet home village. We smile, a full hearted smile, cause we know as we work our fields, they also work us.