A place to rest. In my mind.


Fields of Gold

The wheat grows unbidden
unfertilized, unharvested
still it grows gold and yellow and green
across a field of delight.

I could get lost in this field
and I do.

Coming back in memory
to a hot summer day
bugs and heat and the water of the lake
still and blue and clear.

The fishes try to hide behind rocks
but I can see them from the bank.

I wander along dirt roads
and discover this field
this expanse, of gold lying
before me like a yellow brick
road leading to peace, to heaven
to immortality.

I walk among
the wheat stalks, feathers against
my bare legs. In this place
I am found.


© 2007 Anne Westlund




Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 763 times
Written on 2007-06-25 at 01:59

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penfold18
Beautifully written and has all the warmth of a safety blanket, what a wonderful place to be.
2007-06-25


Zoya Zaidi
Heavenly is the abode,
if one can find,
amongst the nature's golden shrines....

(((Hugs dear Ann)))

I welcome you again to the Bay from my side!
How is it that I missed you?

Love, Zoya

PS By the way, have you read my poem ' Golden Wheat Vs Concrete Jungle'?
2007-06-25