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In fields where golden wheat does grow,

Beneath the sun's resplendent glow,

The stalks stand tall and strong and bright,

Nurtured by the day's warm light.

They sway and dance with gentle grace,

In nature's grand, eternal space,

Their grains a hope, a life sustain,

A symbol of the joy and pain.

The sun, a friend and foe combined,

Gives life, yet shadows too remind,

That in its light, the wheat will thrive,

And through its heat, we stay alive.

The cycle turns, the seasons blend,

From growth to harvest, life does bend,

In fields of wheat, we see our fate,

To cherish love, and not to wait.

For life, like wheat, in sun's embrace,

Will grow and bloom, then leave its place,

A testament to spirit's might,

In golden fields of day and night.

— LARH.