Some mornings feel like a remembering.

Not of something new, but of something ancient—quiet, steady, and already inside us.

This piece was born in one of those moments, when the world felt slower, softer, and truer, and I realized I wasn’t searching anymore. I was already home.

Fields of Yellow

I walk through the morning, the sky brushed in gold,

Listening closely to truths never spoken, but told

In the hush of the breeze and the pull of the land,

Where the earth feels alive when I rest in its hands.

I love how the sunlight spills soft on my skin,

Like the universe knows every place I’ve been.

Every breath feels guided, every step feels right,

Energy hums low and steady in the hush of the light.

When I close my eyes at night, my head on a pillow,

I thank every moment that shaped who I am still, oh—

I dream of tomorrow, of roots yet to grow,

Of love that keeps rising where wildflowers go.

My world is mellow, in the fields of yellow,

Sunlight dancing, hearts beat in meadow.

I wake up blessed, I wake up thankful,

Every day’s a gift, my heart stays gentle.

My world is mellow… in the fields of yellow.

Bare feet on the earth, I remember my name,

Not the one I was given, but the one made of flame—

The one that belongs to the stars and the soil,

To the sacred exchange of the rest and the toil.

I follow the sunset that drifts through the sky,

Golden and glowing as the clouds wander by.

There’s love in the quiet, there’s truth in the slow,

There’s peace in surrendering all I don’t know.

I am not chasing, I am already home,

In the pulse of the planet, the rhythm, the tone.

The flowers remind me I’m part of the whole,

Every petal a prayer, every breath, a soul.

My world is mellow, in the fields of yellow,

Sunlight dancing, hearts beat in meadow.

I wake up blessed, I wake up thankful,

Every day’s a gift, my heart stays gentle.

My world is mellow… in the fields of yellow.

And when the day comes I don’t rise from my pillow,

Let the wind carry me gentle and slow.

Spread me as energy, light as a hello,

Lay me back softly in the fields of yellow.

Because I loved deeply—not one, but the all,

Every rise, every rest, every whisper, every call.

If love is a language the universe knows,

Then mine is written where the wildflower grows.

My world is mellow, in the fields of yellow…

Reflection

This piece is a reminder that life doesn’t always ask us to become more.

Sometimes, it asks us to soften.

To slow down long enough to notice where we already belong. To let go of the urgency to arrive somewhere else. To feel the quiet abundance that exists in presence, gratitude, and the simple truth of being alive in this moment.

If you’ve been feeling restless, tired, or disconnected, maybe your invitation isn’t to push forward—but to step barefoot into your own version of a yellow field and let yourself rest there awhile.

Journal Prompt:

Where in your life do you already feel grounded and safe, even if you haven’t named it yet? What would it look like to return there—daily, gently, and without rushing?

Quote

“I am not chasing the life meant for me—I am standing in it, grateful and grounded” -CM

Always,

CM