I wasn’t prepared for the distance

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I wasn’t prepared for the distance

the way it would grow like wheat

rolling over the hills

you know it’s there

you can see the golden straw growing closely together

even from afar


as I look out across the hills and valleys that form my life

searching for that which has grown most apart from me

all I see are waves of gold that seem endless


if I cross over all the hills that stand before me

I’ll find the end

it won’t be without trekking uphill countless times

and then slipping and sliding down

in the smooth wheat


but at what point does it remain worth it?

at what point do we embark over endless hills

to close a gap that grew for a reason

just as the wheat grows and is harvested year after year