The Field
I am waiting
In the field
For you to find me
The whispers of the wind
To guide
But you will not catch me
You will not sweep me
From the ground
You will not leave me
Either
The night has come
And you stand
Above me
Gaping, at my sorrow
You do not know
Who
I
Am
But you know
The nonsense
Of the self
Always wanting
Seething for something
Unreachable
You are not the One
I long for
But you will do
For now
You will do
It is hard to say
Why
A simple word
I listen for the answer
But it never comes
The wind roars
Through the brush
And trees
But they do not answer
They snicker
As I weep
For my loss
I want the warmth
The immense comfort
Of life
Therefore you
Will
Not
Do
I have decided
You are not
What I seek
You are
A reminder
Of what I have lost
Your warmth
Is lukewarm
Your touch
Shallow and steel
You let me loose
I will gladly go
Away from this nonsense
Away from the silence
Of waiting
Of wanting
Hoping there is
End
You are hopeless
You are also
Sweet and civil
But I will not
You do not need me
And I surely
Do not want you
Need and want
In this field
Are the same
Need equals
Want
Want equals
Need
But you are neither
What I want
Or what I need
I am
Not want I want
I am
Not what I need
My attempts to calm
My fragile nerves
In this silence
Torture
I am not enough
But you are
No longer listening
You are not gaping
Or waiting
Or wanting
You are gone
And I am not
But still
We are not sufficient
You are not
And I am not
So, who are we?
Where are we?
The field is
Fading
And I am
Alone
Whispering to
Mocking
Winds
Copyright © Krista Redman | Year Posted 2012
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