Fields


Fields and fields of open grass
Rocks and sands upon the wet soil
Growing each day in an impossible task
Into a new land called Changi

Slowly a land rises from the sea
Above the birds begin to fly
Sea creatures big and small gather
The grass grows longer and taller
Each day changes the scene
Each year the earth matures from wetlands to harden clay

The fields turn green
As nature reclaims its rightful place under the sun
The birds takes to the air
whenever the planes comes to land

Nature fights back to claim the air
But air is free, wind knows no boundaries
The land grows inches itself outwards
The sky remains blue…forever
 
By Michael Wee