Wednesday, April 12, 2017

“The Field” by Kris Anderdian


“The Field” by Kris Anderdia

 Often I have this dream of
wildflowers at my knees
a cool November breeze that
brushes up beside me

The field is endless,
but very much alive
with butterflies and dragonflies
that fly beneath an orange sky

Alone I walk the field
Though little do I feel alone,
alone I walk,
as if it is meant to be my destiny

The wind whispers its chilly wisdom
and I am overcome,
as if this place was
where my soul began

And from afar I behold
at the horizon, where the sun sets,
silhouettes of those who came before,
their backs against the sunset

They bid me to join them
and take my place at their side,
for the joy and shame of former days
has passed away
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