Walking with eyes closed
Through the fields of golden wheat
Running my hand over
Wheat tassels, I knew
That I was of this earth
And the wheat was of heaven
When my lips touched the water
Of the clear mountain spring
Trickling through the cracked rocks
I swore I was in heaven
When the cool summer breeze
Blew in my sweaty face
Over the fields of golden wheat
I wished I was of the sky
And when I hungered for flesh
My hand no longer caressing
The gentle silky wheat tassels
I was certain that I was
Nothing but an animal
Born in Iran, Behzad Dayeny is the Director of Food Services at the Santa Fe Community College. His poetry explores the natural world, the human heart, and the ever-shifting nature of home.
