sometimes it happens between storms.. the soft shift no one sees.
the grasses turn as they always have, leaning into the rhythm that remembers year after year the true nature of the prairie lands.
and the prairie knows.. how to bow without breaking, how each wave of grass mid-tempest still points home.
the winter cold has passed. the grasses rise..
and within their return, my heart finds its Home.
You'll remember me when the west wind moves Upon the fields of barley You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky As we walk in fields of gold
So she took her love For to gaze a while Upon the fields of barley In his arms she fell as her hair came down Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me? Will you be my love? Upon the fields of barley We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky As we lie in fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so Upon the fields of barley Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly And there have been some that I've broken But I swear in the days still left We'll walk in fields of gold We'll walk in fields of gold
https://youtu.be/4qC5-DEDZug?si=SOM_1_IU8B4wfNnx
The prairie does not remain open forever. The gate does not swing on air.