Returning to the fields
where it all started
so many years ago.
It was here I decided
which path I would take
and to never look back,
even when the sun falls
and the fields are obscured
with shadows and mist.
That crossroad we come to
in moments of stress and blocks,
the struggle choking rational thoughts,
the behavior, the actions – this is not me.
How did this happen?
How did I get here?
Change is subtle and patient.
One day we vow to find balance,
to live and act a certain way,
to be, most importantly, better than
Then time takes over,
and one winter morning, awake before the alarm,
thoughts are consumed with the upcoming day,
week, and months, items and events beyond
control, but consuming, pushing
away everything that is important, that matters.
Closing eyes tight, breathing, trying to push
this away and overcome the thoughts, but it has wrapped cold bony
fingers around the mind and wont let go.
I am losing sight of the path,
I am losing focus of the empty fields.
Each day folds into another as the weeks
and months pass with little notice
and soon another year rises beyond the horizon
and I am forced to confront where I am in this life
and if this is where I want to be, is this the path
I started down before?
How do I break from this cycle?
How do I wrestle back control and stake claim
to the life I am meant to live?
Snow begins to cover the empty field
as the trees hold up the graying sky.
I want to bury my head into
the snow and mud,
I want to find a way into
while I do not understand where
this world is going and the heavy thoughts,
and when I lift my head
I am living in a cartoon
where the scenesare surreal
and at the end we can erase
our actions and past
and start over.
When this life’s pace and chaos
become too much I know where I can turn.
I return to my roots,
I return to the empty fields.
Here is a clean slate waiting
for the mind to create.
They offer possibilities,
an endless space to chase and capture dreams.
This is where the mind can exist
without limitations or boundaries.
This is home.
In the fractured sleep of night’s immersed
in dreams based in nothing familiar or known,
one word repeated over and over – direct.
I watched power-less as background images
of tall buildings, lattice, and cross-stitched patterns
rotated and approached my view with ever increasing velocity.
At the end (or beginning) of a tunnel
bathed in wavering light with no sound
a shadow slowly approached.
The sides of the tunnel began to
move and rotate, grey lines
and intricate patterns covered everything.
and I briefly lost sight of the shadow
until something pushed me through
and I landed on the empty fields
near the forest where we first
met in ancient times and you
silently spoke directly to me.
Beyond the fields of flowers
reaching the horizon,
another field exists
reaching beyond the stars.
This home, this planet
floats in the endless
expanse of space though
fields of time and gravity.
We harvest the land
and pull sustenance from the earth,
while we gaze upon the heavens
and the possibility of other life.
Do each of us have a monster inside
a beast we strive to hide from the
world, those close we love, and from our self?
At the end of each day
what are we truly running from?
What shadows lurk in the forest
and what shadows do we carry?
Across the fields with scattered snow
mountains rise from the earth
in spires of solid granite,
nearly featureless – how will
this barrier be overcome?
Standing at the base of the mountains
what hope I brought here
disperses on the cold wind
scouring the surface of the empty fields,
those fields I left behind years ago
when the beast chased me away.
I keep it within reach
just beneath the surface.
It is always awake with eyes
open watching me and ready
to arise at the simplest command
always there beneath the surface.
Time has not soften the beast.
Time has not taken away the power.
Over and through the years
I have learned to control
when the beast arises
the appropriate moments to step aside.
I woke in the fields.
The fields I have never seen.
The fields black beneath the white sun.
Limbs emerge from snow.
Snow scatters into the wind.
Wind twists the clouds around me.
From the horizon a train nears.
The horizon shakes and fractures.
The fractured fragments cover my mind.
I was not yet ready to awaken.