The Field

open-ended, infinite 
that bright and rambled field 
called us past paved driveways
and petunia gardens 
mowed lawns 
and backyard barbecues

where the road ended, 
the grass was dry and golden
thirsty, sharp-edged and sighing 
above the hardened ground

but farther in,
the new grass held us
green, embryonic 

we’d pull handfuls,
nibble its sweet white flesh,
hold the blades
between our upright thumbs 
and blow through praying hands 
to screech like jays

all of this at ten years old

and you content to follow 
one step behind

deeper in,
the forest offered
a darker refuge

but you ran home

I climbed a tree 
and sat on a high branch, 
legs dangling
staring into 
the woods ahead 

---

Music pairing: The Meadow by Ann Annie, 2025.

May these words bring truth and healing
through open hands and hearts. And then,
let it flow back into our Mother Earth
for the love of all her beings.

This poem was conceived and grown organically from my own unique human experience, thoughts, efforts, knowledge and research.