There is a field of flowers
Within a meadow bright
Sometimes one hears them singing,
These blooms of golden light.
They live and thrive, remain, endure,
The air is sweeter here.
Weary traveler, welcome back,
They whisper, yearning soft
Knowing stories, sharing sighs
As they hold their song aloft
The wind is sweeter here.
Ease your burdens, last with us
Let go of ungrasped empty days
No more fear-stained wavering steps
Remain here where contentment stays
The life is sweeter here.
We have known your fears, your pains
Your old heartaches, your long-lost smiles
Your loneliness, your shattered dreams
Come lay your sorrows down awhile.
The dream is sweeter here.
Join our song, they murmur,
Rest with us, sing with us,
No more lost half-heartened days
Let your darkness ring with us—
The end is sweeter here.
- written on a scroll discovered in a grassy field of wildflowers