Folded

Folded

I sit with my legs folded 

Still.

I do not move.

I just sit. And listen for the footsteps

Not footsteps, because it's not really that tangible

Something like movement, but more real 

Not a sound, but a force

the wheat field around me, pre-bread, pre-sustenance

offers no shielding

Just raw potential

And I sit, wondering and listening

On baited breath

for this...

The King is in the Field

and i'm just a day laborer

content with my lot

but with tired hands

and sun kissed skin

It's been a long day and the sun is setting and the breeze is cool and my stomach is full as I 

sit and wait in anticipation and hope

with folded legs