Ocean of Gold

Author's Note: This poem was originally a stream of consciousness, and started out with the word Field. I immediately thought of a sports field, and made a face. I tried to think of some other kind of field I would enjoy writing about, and imagined a wide open field, filled with tall grass, like in one of those super-dramatic perfume commercials. I wanted to give it a really personal feel, and I hope I accomplished that. Enjoy!

Whoosh-

The wind blows across the tall grass

Tickling my face

                      My ears

                              My fingertips;

My world has become an ocean of gold,

With the blue sky above.

I walk through the path

             My path

Thinking about nothing in particular

Because the sweet smell of earth fills my senses.

I brush my palms across the grass,

And it feels like I'm somewhere far from here.

I look back,

Seeing only light footprints of where I have stepped,

Looking forward-to where I will go

It is comforting, knowing I am not taking anything from here,

for this place is complete.
 

A green space opens up in front of me,

begging me to run through it

And down the hill like only a child knows how.

I give in,

and soon, my feet are taking me

faster

         faster,

until I fly down,

the wind rushing past me,

and a smile on my face.

when I finally find the will to stop,

                  I fall

and stare at the sky above,

   The endless sky-

which seems so full of possibilities, stares back,

until it seems to swallow me whole,

to a place only to be described as heaven.