5219. FILL ALL MY FIELDS WITH FALLING WATER

FILL ALL MY FIELDS 

WITH FALLING WATER

I will take my leave of nothing here. I will exit by the

front door, same as I came in. I will not look back 

and, upon exiting, perhaps not return. For these 

fields are now too Springtime happy for me. 

Fill all my fields with falling water. 

-

I am as certain of the end as I ever was of the

beginning, and  -  of course  -  I know more now.

There can be no more uncertainty than that of the

cloud, changing shape, as it passes, and changing

shape again just as we cling to it. Gone. In the same

manner, I look skyward to see for something, 

anything, what it is may matter.  Fill all my

fields with falling water. Yes, what it 

is may matter.

-

 Dropping energy in a carpool of foolishness,

leaving footprints where the sands wash away

and the fierce winds prowl  -  everything so

soon dispersed in a while. Fill all my 

fields with falling water. I will take

my leave of nothing here.