Wildflower

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong somewhere you feel free

I really don't know where I am, but it is always the same place. A cool, breezy early spring day. The bright and warm glow of the sun just enough to keep the chill away. I'm me, but I'm not quite me. My hair is a lot lighter, golden almost blonde like it was when I was in nursery school. And longer, looser curls that blow in the wind gently away from my face in tendrils. I'm a couple of inches taller and several pounds thinner. But I assure you it's me. I can feel her soul and I can see her clear as day.

I am not sleeping. The dreams don't visit me in the night while I sleep. They come to me in cinematic visions, through the windshield while I drive, or while I gaze wistfully out a window in the back seat of a car, in the waiting room at a doctor's office, or during long drawn out meetings in a conference room.

Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover

I'm running through a field with my arms out to my sides like wings and my head tilted back so I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face. The grass is tall and there are wildflowers of different heights and colors all around me, in the field and on my dress. Small, delicate ballet slipper pink ones, paper thin, translucent. Bright buttery yellow ones that remind me of the buttercup flowers we used to hold under our chins while we sang. Pops of deep red color, puckered kissy lips. And purples, violet and lilac. The field is fragrant. I smell honeysuckle.

It's a beautiful scene really. Care free and youthful, running barefoot through the field. No ants, just bees and caterpillars and I'm not bothered by anything. Butterflies flutter by, and there may be a bird or a child in the distance with a kite flying high overhead.

You belong among the wildflowers
Far away from your troubles and worries

I don't know where I'm running or who, if anyone, I am running to or from. It's strange actually. I don't recall ever having run barefoot through a field of wildflowers when I was a child. At that age, I was uncomfortable being alone. But there, in the country field, I am all by myself. I am gleeful and at peace. I know because I can feel the tingle and exhilaration inside her as she runs, giggling and twirling.

She is me.




*Italicized verses are lyrics from Tom Petty's "Wildflowers."