My Place in the Field

If at some time
I knew I would die,
This field is the place
I know I would lie.

There's wheat all around,
Grass in my hair,
Birds flitting in the sky,
But no one else here.

With the clouds above drifting,
My mind light and free,
I close my eyes and soak in
The sun's rays with glee.

I could lie here forever,
Alone in this field,
One with the earth,
Not a care in the world.

Cars pass by now and then,
But don't pay me much mind,
So that if death did I crave here,
I'd have plenty of time.

Loud is not an adjectibe
Used in the space.
Sound means only my
Mind's state of grace.

If near the end,
Here I would lie;
Caressed by the ground,
Awaiting the sky.

- from a wheat field outside a small village in France