Eyes of corn flatten,

Midday sun streaming down,

Invisibly pressed into circular pattern.

It was almost like a miracle,

Wind purred around almost lyrical.

A code from an unseen workload?

It ordained they’re waiting to be discovered.

I would spend many hours staring,

Ponder unwinding almost spellbinding.

Maybe this was a rudder in the divine helmsmen’s hand,

His way of self-expression in the exalted hours.

To blazon his greatness within natures towers.

Or was this a spacecraft that press upon us?

The more I deem the more I become aware,

How infinite is truth.

Lessons to learn as deep as the ocean,

Swept along in mysterious of motion.