The Meadow

I lie upon the waves of this endless meadow,
Carried across the sea of my unconscious echo.
Rising and falling with the tide of my reverie
Consumed by nature’s glorious serenity.

The sun’s persistence cannot wake this soul,
That hesitation does tentatively control.
Nor can it’s heat make me choose my path,
As I lay here, in the rapturous grass.

Even the wildflowers that brush my somber face,
Cannot stir my quiet refusal with haste.
Please! Let me sleep here forever, never to stir,
Just resting in the meadow, year upon year.

But even the sun in it’s day, must wake.
I cannot linger, for darkness sake.