I, in a field amongst my peers;
We are so similar
Almost all the same-
We grow together
From the soil beneath
Our stems, our roots
Combining, clustering,
We are all connected.
     I feel like I am different though,
     I have my own stem
     My own hue of pink
     My own pretty petals
     My own green leaves
     My own movement
     My own form of life.
I realize there are others
That look like me,
That grow like me,
That sway in the wind as I do.
     But I also know that
     I am my own flower-
     I am not like the rest-
     I am an individual.
This field of wildflowers,
Filled with stems and petals
That may seem the same-
Yet so exceptionally different,
Is simply a community.
What makes this vast meadow
So whole and complete,
Is every distinct blossom
Coming together-
Creating a natural
Convergence of unique,
Beautiful, living beings.

Puddles in meadow  .  .  .
Speckled wings of butterfly,
  .  .  .  Mirror wild flowers.

Proud sun shares its gift  .  .  .
Meadow pond lit with lilies,
  .  .  .  Morning light open palms.

I have a time zone of my own
I can stay from dusk to dawn
I feel like a dead meadow
I can't sense life,
I can't even moan

Amongst the monardas
Horsetail, Susan's black eyes
You can almost feel it:
freedom, life.

It could just be the heat.

There's a meadow past the village
On a hill...where magic swarms
You can see it on a summer night
When the clouds predict the storms
Life from time eternal
Starts appearing in the field
Gnomes and bluebell fairies
and the magic that they yield

You can see them from the village
Dancing in the moonlights glow
You can see the lightning jumping
You can see the ebb and flow
The pixies and the fairies
Folk who are part of their own world
Light up the distant meadow
As the magic is unfurled

Daisies and soft bluebells
fill the meadow in the sun
there is clover and some dragonflies
And young children having fun
The magic folk are hiding
Lights are hid, and tucked away
Until the humans in their world
Pack to end the day

It's then, from down the village
That the meadow lights begin
Where the magic lights the sky up
In the early gloaming din
If a human breaks the borders
Coming out and much too near
The lights go dark...and silent
For the magic world has ears

There are sentries in the meadow
All unseen to you
That alert the makers of the lights
When the humans are in view
there is magic in the meadow
magic lanterns are set free
where the world becomes a canvas
Of dancing lights for all to see