When I was born, the air said to water, Let’s go meet the earth. So they slid down a rainbow into the field of poppies where my mother slept in my fathers arms. “Fire, what are you doing here?” Water asked (always wary of that one). “Catalyzing, what else?”
Poem: It’s Not So Easy To Be a Field
Poem: It’s Not So Easy To Be a Field
Poem: It’s Not So Easy To Be a Field
When I was born, the air said to water, Let’s go meet the earth. So they slid down a rainbow into the field of poppies where my mother slept in my fathers arms. “Fire, what are you doing here?” Water asked (always wary of that one). “Catalyzing, what else?”