As morning hues
peak above outstretched land,
casting its light
on dew sprinkled roses,
the sweet song of dawn
rises from the depths.
Blankets of clouds
have come down,
nestling themselves
in the open fields.
For that small moment
heaven and earth
are not separated.
It is here...
in the space between
night and day,
where the world is quiet,
the slumber still sweet,
that I find peace,
that I find rest.
~Kayla Leveille
Fields are my favorite. Some people love mountains, some people love oceans, but give me rolling fields with beautiful trees hugging the edges and I'm home.
For me, mountains are captivating, and will forever put me in awe. Oceans are musical, and will forever sing a beautiful song to me, with mysteries beyond my imagination. But fields... fields are new every day, that roll and spread across the land, best when trees dance among them. Fields are open, and I can see the sun rise in the morning, and set in the evening... Fields are home.
I'm not one to share my 'artsy' written work. I write things here and there for friends, but mostly everything stays safely tucked away in my journals. But there are two pieces that I wrote, that I keep going back to over the past couple of months, and even though similar, they give me peace.
Both written as I gaze out into the open space, of my small versions of home. They bring me to the moments where I sit in awe at God's goodness, his grace, and his beautiful creations... when the world was quiet, the air sweet, and my heart still... and I remember.
Cold crisp air surrounds my soul,
the smell of sweet autumn comforts me.
The sun beams through the leaves of old,
to give off days last light.
Clouds had billowed of white,
now turn to specks of radiant color
to grace the sky at dusk.
The rustle of leaves proves life,
birds sing their last song,
as the world says goodnight.
You are here.
You have always been here.
You whisper through the breeze,
'comer forth, come near.'
I am pulled into your presence,
your power, your awe.
Away we wander,
sweet lovers delight.
To walk through the meadows,
to sing with the rain.
To find each others essence,
each others song.
As dusk draws to a close,
the night draws near.
But you are here.
You have always been here.
~Kayla Leveille
