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The Open Field

Updated on August 15, 2011
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com

The Open Field

By Tony DeLorger © 2011


Breeze alive,

sundrenched,

I walk the field,

hands open,

heads over wheat brushing,

their touch

like God’s blessing.

Rolling hills,

distant,

a soft blue tint,

a haze of distance.

Sun against skin imbues

a warmth of heart,

a feeling of belonging.

I lay down within the stalks,

eyes searching

the vast open sky.

Clouds wander,

aimlessly,

reinventing,

forms evolving.

I am free,

lost in a chosen reality,

a part yet separate

from the humming

of life.

My heart is singing,

permeating the swell

of surrounding life.

Each scratch and scurry

a testament of impermanence,

yet inspiring

for the will to be.

Still, silent,

I remain.

Heart radiating,

instilling my recognition

of the power of being,

the lilting song of life.


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