Down Poem by Dan Uriel

we would wander in the wet field
and see how it open and blooms in the morning
and you would listen, with fresh and raw herbs
that's buzzing, rustle, the life is waking up
the sun would grow yellow from the wheat
tiny waters drops would be silvered far away
you would imagine a clean landscape in your eyes
our body, as a blood vessel, would bathe in the light

and the glowing south would throw white plumes
on our backs like soft scarves
the road would turn for you to return
next to the field house and we let go
that our tired body in which we grew up
the desire to fall in the thick shadow
and if there is a lot of clutter at dusk

with a heavy soul in which deep humility
the seers of God float on the branches
between split bird wings