Let Me Drink the Fields
Let me drink the fields
Let the clouds be my eyes
Let me open my arms
And capture the skies
Let me cry wind
Let me bleed branches
Let me melt into ocean
And sing currents’ dances
Let me calm chaos
Let me be the order of the forest
Let me be the tempest that rises
And the earth quaking before us
Let me see air
Let me paint its footsteps
Let me follow behind it
And suckle at its breasts
Let me tickle the noses
Of all who pass by me
Let me be dry wood
And dew soaked ivy
Let me cast delirium
On my enchanted subjects
Let me be golden Wisteria
Or Angel’s Trumpets
Let me cool the night
Let me heat the morning
Let me trickle sunlight
And awaken the yawning
Let me quell the separate
Let me fill them with sweetness
Let them not forget
That I am closeness, that I am nearness