Waves run through the earth in slow motions sweeping with the wind through a field of amber, twisting and swaying from side to side in a gentle waltz. I run my hand up the stalks as far as I can reach before I feel a droplet kiss my nose. My attention stays at the wheat as if not acknowledging what I know to be true will prolong it by even the slightest second. A drop taps my shoulder, I know I know… I just wish to stay a little longer. I’m poked on the side of my arm, just a little longer please. My name is called over the hills brought to my ear in the wind; maybe if I stay still I won’t be noticed? Another as last call rings in my ears before the downpour begins. I let my extended hand fall to the ground and look up towards the sky and admire the painted lines of grays and whites sprinkled with patches of pastel blue that peak through. The cold settles in and I close my eyes pretending to not hear the roll of thunder’s third call to me over the rain’s relentless drumming. It’s its own fault now I tell myself. I’ll stay here, just for a while longer.

I wrote this poem last week and it sparked the inspiration for this beautiful picture.
I can't thank the incredible Lindenhoney enough for bringing the words to life with her artwork.
Artwork by  lindenhoney
Mordred belongs to me
Poem written by me