…stretching towards the horizon

There is a field that does not exist on any map
you cannot search for it, you cannot ask directions
no road signs point toward it, the field finds you
usually, when you have lost someone
when grief has found a room inside your soul
where every breath and every memory, echoes there
when you walk down a familiar road
when you walk beside a river, you have known all your life
suddenly the world changes, everything stands still
the songs of the birds have faded to silence
and before you, is a vast field
if your heart is unbroken, you will see nothing there
just weeds, or stones, warming in the sun
but if your heart is broken, in your grieving, you will see
fields of wild dahlias, stretching toward the horizon
their colours so vivid that they don’t seem real
each flower belongs, to someone you know
your heart, will lead you, like an invisible thread
soon you will find a wild dahlia, standing with the others
do not pick it, for the dead cannot be carried home
you may speak, tell them everything, you never said
that you are angry, that you forgive them
tell them about the songs, that you cannot listen to
tell them how strange it is, that the world
continued turning, after theirs stopped
the wild dahlias will listen, their petals trembling
now a fragrance you remember
is slowly drifting in upon the breeze
and you hear a voice answering
something from the heart
‘I know’, that is all, ‘I know’
©Ann Bagnall