Out beyond the arguments and misunderstandings,

away from the fear and the anger,

apart from the small and sleeping people who cripple and wound us,

with their low expectations, and their frenzied warnings and judgements,

there is a field.  I’ve seen it, honest.

I’ll meet you there.

We will be secret lovers there, and share our most precious hopes,

and stories. And there, we will exist beyond discouragement and surrender,

the what-ifs and if-onlys,

and pity mes, how mean and hard is my gray life, look what they

have done to me now.

We will embrace in a sea of red and yellow petals, floating on a meadow,

in fields of gold, where the flowers dance, and whisper to us to look up, look up.

I’ll meet you there, in the field where the world is filled with soft color and light.

And we will dance in the moonlight and twirl dizzily below the shooting stars,

until we collapse in exhausted joy on the softest bed there ever was.

Trust me. Love me. I will meet you there. In the field of souls,

in the grass.

In the field

of hope and encouragement.

And promise.

And don’t you know?

This is God, what it is. Meet me there.