In a field, ground level I lay my heart yesterday; the aroma of earth and husk, wild basil and mud, neath Your blue skies wide eyed with Light…. It all soaks me up still, like Light drinks up the dark. It all rinses me inside out,
You who grew wild reed and foxtail in fields few see; among temples of clay serpents and gods- their tongues hung down in sharp blue and blood brown, altars that worship cobra crown and speared sacrifice,
You, Your colors soft with mercy, with tender loving kindness, I lay in Your fields last evening, the scents of dusk and sounds of nearby brook, on stone; how lovely are these Your dwelling places, my sweet savior Lord.