My sleeping body is a field lying fallow,
dark loam of flesh folded in on itself,
imbibing mysteries. When I rise,
I become a tall field of corn stalks
dancing under the sun,
waving yellow tassles.
I open my green arms to the hungry.
They receive of my hidden gold, and live,
and I return to lie down
again in the dreaming earth.
Max Reif
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/27aug-myth-poem/
