lay with me among the grasses
to stare up at the sky
amidst the nettle and clover
the horses won't mind
hear the doppler hum of a fly whipping by
yeah the horses won't mind
they'll graze around us
while the woods that surround us
echo with thrush song
carried along by a gentle rush of wind
that ripples pastoral over the fields
and rumples the surface of the lake
are we still awake?
or am I dreaming sweet dreams
melting into the pasture
wooed by the poetry of our surroundings
composed with a few small seeds and the drop of rain
that once upon a time
made this place
our place
our here
our now
Photos taken on Zylstra Lake Preserve, San Juan Island, Washington, USA
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