There is a field I travel to
Where I lie in the tall grasses
With the earth as my pillow
And she sings to me through
           the shuddering trees.

Her voice , so wistful,
Brings me to tears --

And the wildflowers whisper:
There is light in everything,
         They say. The proof is in the
Dawn and all around you --
In the scrub pines and their
Noisy seminar of birds;
In the taste of a plums juicy flesh;
In mist rising in the far-off hills.

Sunrise and all that follows
Is how you know:
        Eternity is yours and
                always close--