DOT... LETTER... WORD...
The air is cool and fresh in the field
At three in the morning, and upstairs
A light goes on. The next day,
The reaper flicks the stalks, the stairs
Rise up to where a lively child
Is born. Do not be afraid
Of life in the field, its rough vigor,
It is a gift of God, the hand and the spade.
Yaacov David Shulman