Joyful Ruins

I think I want my insides to match

a wide open field of wildflowers

so each time I go there

I find space and color

life and unity

A singing of the joy of the moment

And an accepting for all that life is

A working together with the sun

the soil

the insects and rain

A boldness

an embracing of oneself

in that time

and an embracing of the next season

Whatever flowers grow

Whatever lays fallow

So perhaps it is not the wildflowers I long to be

But the wide open field itself

A place for wild things to grow

or for cultivation

I want to be the ground

Soft with rain and minerals

Hard with ice and drought

At times covered with flowers

which people wonder at

At other times

simply grass

Beautiful to some

those who truly see

But more importantly

that each season

is me

Open

Spacious

Allowing

And life

even in death