The Elysian Fields Poem by Matt Mooney

The Elysian Fields

They looked like Elysian Fields
to me up in the sky above there
coming down the Hill of Leith
leaving the sun behind to sink
solemnly near Mount Brandon.

Above its rays had gone ahead
on red and purple pink and rosé
fleecy clouds in ridges running
towards the village of Kilflynn.

Perplexed as to its connotation
this glimpse of suspended glory.

Overhead our Champs - Elysée
furrows on the fields of heaven
where 'Our God Reigns' is sung
and the choirs sing Deo Gratias
for their lives for what has been
a land of no seasons and no sin.

Seeming to be so near from here
I'd like to climb its silken ladder
and see for sure our final destiny.