Fallow Field

During a time of transition, not knowing what would come next, the image of a field lying fallow encouraged me. It started with the thought, “I’m like a field that wants to be planted” and first became a poem and then this song.

I’m like a field that wants to be planted
for want of a gardener and seeds.
For lack of a tiller and a will to work the soil,
I lay fallow, I lay fallow, I lay fallow covered in weeds

I’m like a trip that wants to be taken
with no tickets purchased, no suitcase packed
For lack of deciding what to take or leave behind,
my traveler immobilized, my traveler immobilized,
my traveler immobilized and trapped.

I’m like a ditch that wants to be dug
for lack of a shovel and a pick.
For lack of a surveyor or a project engineer,
I remain hidden, I remain hidden,
I remain hidden for lack of this.

I’m like a play waiting to be written
for lack of a playwright and a pen.
For lack of props, actors and a stage,
to bring into being, to bring into being,
to bring into being what is meant to be.

But for now I am directionless.
And it seems I will remain,
Unless the emptiness of now can be embraced.
But for now I am directionless.
And it seems I will remain,
Unless the emptiness of now can be embraced.

I’m like a song that wants to be sung
for lack of the notes and the words.
And that something inside, once it is expressed
Will be the most beautiful, will be the most beautiful,
Will be the most beautiful song ever heard.