Wednesday, February 24, 2010

The Field

The wind swirls the grass
Floral essence fills the air
I know you, I've seen you before
As we walk through the field

I stand here in disbelief
These feelings so foreign
These feelings so familiar
As we stand in this field

Do I know you from somewhere?
Your face unfamiliar
Your presence so calming
As we talk in this field

What brought us to this place?
Two strangers beforehand
Two strangers reunited
As we discover this field

Do I reach for embrace?
Should I speak of these feelings?
What is coming over me?
As we pause in this field

The picture becomes clearer
Though I can not explain
I have been here before
I have been in this field

As if hypnotized I remember you
I remember this place
But I don't think you know
As we stray from this field

As I watch you walk away
I want to tell you my story
But I stay here unsettled
As I lay in this field

I hope we will meet again
Our paths have crossed before
Though, will it ever be the same
As when you cried in this field?

You were meant to be near me
You will always be part of me
Your image etched in my mind
In the field where I died

4 comments:

Eva Marie Sutter said...

This touched something deep, archetypal within me. It got me thinking about so much but mostly human relationships: humans to nature, human to human, humans in the universe, humans on Earth. **** (four stars!)

Aunt Sue said...

Luke, is this 'the field' - in a long ago time . . . ?

You have ingeniously written this in a style in which the ending line and beginning line could be linked to create a circle containing all remembrances within, creating potential for rebirth and a new life story: "In the field where I died . . . the wind swirls the grass".

Wow!

khaskoo said...

Very nice Luke.
This is touching.
Like a child's vivid impression
of a memory lost, yet the emotion
of familiarity was always there.

castillo de sallas said...

<3. thank you so kindly for this.