The field is a luxurious place to sit
and enjoy the growth of nature; the items
missing and those left behind.
It’s a flat cathedral. Every spot the
hidden pinnacle of a steeple, pointing
to heaven.
The song is within the breezes, warm
and cool. The heads of weeds and wild flowers
Hum their own tune.
Lay down flat and feel the pulse of its life;
the rocks and treasures hidden in the depths
of unrevealed layers. The surrounding fragrance
is mild and open.
Roger Singer 