Out in the Fields with God
Memories are some of the important things that I do hold dear. Some of the best childhood memories I have dances in my grandmother's house which sits in one of the mountains of Babag 2, Cebu City. It's this rustic place where I am completely at peace especially when I go there with my family. It remains on top of my list of favorite places in this world, even though living in a busy city hands me a plethora of choices. The irresistible charm of my grandmother's home takes me back to the time when primal things and abstractions were enough to complete my day.
Those days are gone and with adulthood I have to deal with the unloving parts of living. It could be the absence of something deviant or just a mere feeling of displeasure. Either way, I have to face my own starless nights. To ablaze them requires me to toil, but I have to fess up to my own limits. Sometimes it exhausts me to the point where I just want to run away. To some place where solace is waiting for me, out in the fields with God.
Goat: the saddest of all animals
My uncle Michael and his daughter, my cousin Macy
My uncle passed away last October :(
My father's coconut tree which he planted two decades ago.
The first rays of sunrise
The summer hay and my shadow
My grandmother's orchids
Out in the Fields with God by Elizabeth Barrett Browning is one of my favorite English poems. I have come across the literary piece whilst I was in college reading some write-ups about the poet's life and works.
Although the poem was never taught to us, I find it very relevant in so many aspects of my life particularly when the going gets tough. I do hope that the poem shall do you good as well especially in the new year to come. Here's a copy of it so if you ever need a seedbed of strength, remember this poem and you'll find it within you.
Out in the Fields with God
The little cares that fretted me,
I lost them yesterday
Among the fields above the sea,
Among the winds that play,
Among the lowing of the herd,
The rustling of the trees,
Among the singing of the birds,
The humming of the bees.
The foolish fears of what might pass
I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass,
Among the new-mown hay,
Among the hushing of the corn,
Where drowsy poppies nod,
Where ill thoughts die and good are born —
Out in the fields with God.
Happy New Year dearest!
love lots,
Tin