In the Fields, I Roam

In the fields, I roam
Across the beds of dandelions
To the hill rising in sunshine.
The bursting flowers scatter
…..fuzzy wishes on the breeze.

Resting on the ripening grass
I lean against my favorite tree
And gaze at its twin before me.
The morning sun softens
…..a chalky grey to sky blue.

In the stillness, I hear
Blue jays chirping and crickets humming
The morning hymns of spring.
The valley’s silence incants
…..hypnotic enchantments for peace.

Caught in the lazy morning spell, I relax
Watching the foggy mist rise from below
To reveal the embanked chasm of home.
Beyond the abyss waits
…..the crystal lake and its mountains.

Rolling down the glen side of the hill
I feel the spreading blanket cover me
As I stop on the unbounded greener grass.
The uncut grass waves
…..rustled welcomes with silent tongues.

Walking across the valley floor
I reach the slipping shale rocks
Covering the slope to the chasm.
The slated ground breaks
…..under weight in crunching instability.

Easily sliding up the incline
I step onto the rounded edge
To visually explore the black-robed gulf.
The exhaled breeze whispers
…..My name from the chasm’s lips.

Looking beyond it, I see
The greened ruins of home
As a woman approaches me.
The robed woman pushes
…..me into the beckoning chasm.

In the fields, I roam
With abandon to worry and care
As long as my mind doesn’t wander too far.
The gentle fields grow
…..charming daydreams for spring.

Jamie Morris
January 30, 1993

I often daydreamed of my “happy place” when I was younger. The lady is from a nightmare I had about this place once, which changed how I felt about it for a few years. I do still “visit” it from time to time.

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