The sun shines down so hot
As farmers toil in their fields.
They sweat as they hoe the ground,
Working to help their crops yield.

God's breezes, blow softly,
So gently, so cool.
God's breezes refresh them
Like deep, silent pools.

The hay is waist high now,
It sways under the sun.
Waiting for the rake and bailer,
Another job to be done.

God's breezes, do you feel them?
Reviving, alive.
God's breezes much needed,
So we all can survive.

The seasons ever changing
The work ever new.
On farms and in cities
There's so much to do.

God's breezes, within us,
Inside us all.
God's breezes, we need them,
Spring, Summer, Winter, or Fall.

Jane Ellen SloneŠ
Revised 7-25-08
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