Pss. 102: 7 I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.
Fields of Green
I no longer feel that I belong
I’m out on the farm all alone.
Washing over the fields so green
No more do I feel I’m my own.
I’m distant from the child I knew
The one who weathered the storms
I’m just a woman who day by day
Wakes up and mechanically performs.
My life was in the big city
Tall buildings; concrete domes
Paved roads and business mecca’s
Lined streets with towering homes.
Commotion was on every corner.
My mother and father were near.
I felt a part of a bloodline
Now no longer is anyone here.
Sure I’m made to feel family
I’m treated with love and care.
But often I feel an outsider
Not one secret worthy to share.
I’ll wallow here in self-pity,
While everyone's called to serve.
I’ll sit alone with fields of green
Wondering why I chose to swerve.