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Elysian Fields


Swaying grass, green and yellow, waving in my face, standing tall as me,
Surrounding me like a sea, enfolding me in flowing waves.
Take me away from the world of solid gray and black -
the world of throbbing black and blue
the world where I fear the pooling white and red.

A heady scent, rich and strong, earthy and clean, soaking my brain,
Filling me with natural purity, cleansing me in loamy fullness.
Wash me clean of the acrid stench of fear and heat -
the sickening smell of smoke and sourness
the taint of defilement that replaced my innocence.

The fleeting caress, the softest rhythm, grazing my body, dancing on my skin,
Soothing from all directions, thin green limbs restoring sensation.
Massage my soul and free me from the paralysis of tension and numbness -
the ache of hurt and stiffness
the feelings of pain and pleasure.

Whisper in the breeze, rustle soothing words, speak to my hope, color my thoughts,
Tell me all I need to hear, repeat my salvation like a mantra.
Remove all doubts and guilt from my world of crying and pleading -
my world of smacks and screams
my world of haunted moaning.


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Elysian Fields, by Paul Cales, © November 2001