Hector Gonzales

Field And Dirt

Everyday I have to cross the field and dirt
Without my shoes I know it will hurt.

When it is dry and there is no dew
The silence is lonely and keeps me blue.

When the sun in high and hot
The dirt hard and sharp, easy it is not.

Dryness kills the grass dead
Walking without my shoes I dread.

When the sun is gone and clouds are dark and gray
The dirt is turned to mud in the rain.

Knowing I will sink into the earth and emerge filthy
At home I’d rather stay wishing I were wealthy.

The walk can be long with steep ditches and hills
Drop and climbs are no longer a thrill.

In the rain the ditches are filled with water
In the heat a hill climb will make me beg for a bottle of water.

Painful and lonely is the journey through the field
I longer to stop and rest for my heartbeat is getting still.

Unbelievably in this large dry filthy field I find a living oasis
Shade, green grass, blue pond I beautiful place for all aces.

I might be wrong but I feel crossing this dump old field
May be worth this place I could love to chill.

As I lye on my back free of anxiety, feeling sane,
Just relaxing and drifting away from the journey’s pain.

This haven, soft and cool
A beautiful flower is growing by the blue pool.

I lay in the fluffy grass staring and the flower’s beautiful colors
Admiring the beauty knowing there is no other.

My heart and soul is filled with hope and joy
After the nice rest this old man feels like a young boy.

Its is hard to leave this peaceful place and my beautiful flower
But with the rest and admiration has giving me the power.

I complete my journey feeling free
I look back hoping to see my beautiful flower, which I cannot see.

Though I am alone I no longer fill empty
My flower has filled my heart with beauty and tranquility

Poem Submitted: Friday, November 27, 2009

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