In The Fields I Choose To Remember

The peaceful and quiet, I seek. 

Stilling the rush of the urgent.

Finding the space in the hush.

 Echoes of memories threaten the peace. 

I reach deeper for the still. 

Psalm 121:1

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

In the fields I choose to remember. 

The memories run free.

The pain unleashed among the grasses green.

My soul filled with ache, knows no boundaries.

The sky meets the earth

The presence of the holy all around

The open space a comfort

In the fields I choose to remember.