Over fields

This is a song.  It is inspired by Latvian dainas, to which I referred in an earlier post.

Over fields of sweet wildflowers
My heart runs in early morning
Far to the mountains off in the distance
Down to the rolling waves of the ocean
I call your name almost by chance
And I feel the breezes softly singing
From my footfall awakening soil beneath me
A song of  our blood in sweet harmony
My bones are grown from the pines and birches
And strung with the willowy vine by the river
My features are honed from hillocks and cairns
And washed by the flow of ancient waters
Somewhere the helix entwines with memory
Somewhere gates long rusted stand open
One gate, it’s said, leads home, and another
To fathoms unknown and unguessed.

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