The Fields
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Sometimes ideas breeze through my mind as winds in a wheat field
That ebb and flow in the misty haze, dancing a dance they cannot ever have learned
And I think that is the root of joy
When we find we are able to dance the dances we cannot have known, and only can feel for ourselves
Maybe if we were a little lighter-minded
Just let go of a little bit more
There would be infinite opportunities to move this way and that
Wherever the wind may take us
Photograph by Cornelia Büchse
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