There Is A Field... Poem by Bree Z Love

There is a field, I pass everyday.
I yearn to run to the center of it.
I see myself lying in its gentleness; while admiring the blue sky.
Yet, I pass it by.
Sneaking peeks; maybe searching for a guide to walk me, there.
Though, I intuitively feel my heart and spirit is already, there.
I sense its desire for me to come near.
But something erry happen there.
And mysteriously, I gathered that at some point
and somehow its been forgiven and peace, there.
The cardinal whistles and more than a few go, there.
They cross my path casually; free in flight and they always go, there.
No matter my timing as I pass, there.

My day is rushed leaving no time to spare
into the work day; to begin.
My call with my love usually ends, there.
My co-workers pass there, too.
But never see what I do.

On my lunch break, I go there.
But, not to the center.
I wait and watch.
Thinking of my fear....

There are Angels that roam there.
And I am unsure of their desire
for my heart and spirit;
once, I get the courage to go lie there.
In the gentleness of the field; while admiring the blue sky.
I may forget this world and say forever; goodbye.