Whose fields these are…
Whose fields these are I think I know…
His house presides o’er fence below.
His cattle say their grace each day
Content to watch and eat and stay.
The fields, they hum a beckoning tune-
To roam, to fly, to surf their dune,
To live with graceful, swaying ease,
To know no bounds, nor responsibilities.
To run and play and frolic free,
To chase the butterfly…or not…as you please.
Walking away, their song remains,
Though I am bound for my life’s restrain.
And as I enter my home’s gate,
I bow my head to plead for grace…
To watch and eat and yes, to stay;
To boundlessly live within the fray.
May 29, 2010
**For those of you who have just recently joined me here on Drawn2Life:
My neighborhood is right next to a beautiful farm owned and run by an incredibly young 84 year old man named Mr. Whicker. You can read more about “My Field” here and here and here. And for even more, you can click on the category “The Field” over in the right-hand margin. It is a place of inspiration for me which I frequent every day on my walks and as I drive through it, out into the world.