I'm Only A Farmer
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I first heard this poem on RFD-TV.  I found it on the Internet and am putting it here.  It's a wonderful piece, and it makes me think of my grandfather who passed away the day after Thanksgiving, 2006.  The author is unknown, so hopefully I'm not infringing on any rights by placing it here.  I hope you enjoy it.
I'm Only A Farmer
- Author is unknown

I'm only a farmer.
I know the sun better than anyone.
And the soil.
And the wind.
And the rain.
I am the man who works with them.
Who loves them.
And sometimes fears them.

I'm only a farmer.
I am the sower of seeds.
I am the tender of stock.
I am the reaper of harvest.
I am sweat.
And tears.
And pride.

I'm only a farmer.
I am the man who feeds the young.
And the old.
The weak.
And the stong.
I am the black earth of Spring.
The green hills of Summer.
The harvest gold of Autumn.
And the cold white stillness of Winter.

I'm only a farmer.
I am warm memories of the past.
The steely reality of the present.
And a hopeful dream of the future.
I am a optimist.
A thinker.
A watcher.
And a doer.

I'm only a farmer.
I live in a complex world.
Made of simple things.
And they are my source of joy.
And hope.
And comfort.
I have walked the morning fogs.
I have paused for the summer song of the meadowlark.
And I have savored the breeze off freshly cut hay.
I have paused, remembering, by the stream I knew as a boy.
I have felt the power of a thousand storms.
And rejoiced in the fresh world left in their wake.
I'm only a farmer.
I am an accountant.
A chemist.
And a doctor.
I am a midwife.
And a mechanic.
I am a seller.
A trader.
And buyer.
I am husband.
Helper.
And partner to my wife.
I am a father.
Comforter.
And teacher to my children.

I'm only a farmer.
Not a man of riches.
But a man of great wealth.
I have learned to treasure life.
And all things living.
To respect their maker.
And my own.
I am humbled by the earth's bounty.
And awed by endless rebirth.
I am fascinated by the marvelous
    minutiae of my world.
And enriched by their beauty.

I'm only a farmer.
If a man can be truly free,then I truly am.
The day.
The week.
The month.
They have been entrusted to me.
They are mine to spend.
They are mine to invest.
They are mine to use wisely.
It is a solitary profession I have chosen.
Or, perhaps, that I have been chosen for.
A profession where there are no                  certainties.
Where no guarantees are granted.
No promises given.
No excuses taken.
I have but one man to answer to.
One man to depend on.
One man to confide in.
And in the quiet of the years, I have come
   to know him well.

I'm only a farmer.
I am perserverance.
And creativity.
And courage.

I'm only a farmer.
I am confidence.
And ingenuity.
and intelligence.

I'm only a farmer.
A seeker of excellence.
And I will endure.