Bird As Fish

Oh, it's beautiful, beautiful, I cannot even tell you how.

Little hills covered in summer green in a secluded glen on the mountainside. Ancient trees covered in thick carpets of moss, growing up around, soaking the golden sunlight that streams through to where I look out from, and cover me with warmth. Another lush green mountain sits close by, keeping me a secret from the world. It is beautiful, but not what I call love.

A few nights ago, I was talking to one of my good friends on the internet and I sent him, just as a matter of fact, one of my more favourite songs. It is by Eva Cassidy, called Fields of Gold. I thought it was beautiful 5 years ago, and I think it is still beautiful today. Her mellow voice and acoustic guitar blend together into a bittersweet breeze that blows over me when I listen to it. It is beautiful, but not what I call love.

Yesterday, when I went online last night, he jumped on my as soon as I signed in, and said he had something for me. He sent me this picture of the secluded glen that he had found, with the words from the song written in shimmering green summer words:

"So she took her love for to gaze awhile...
Among the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
That we walked in fields of gold"

That is what I call love.

©2004 All Rights Reserved MJ Jackson
This article may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the permission of the author.