Does this golden field have an end, a way out? Will the sun remain in an eternal twilight in the sky or will it vanish when I least expect it?

The wind dances through the field and the wheat is tickling my fingers, trying to console me, telling me that everything is going to be alright. Will it? Will it ever be alright? Or is it just an excuse to be able to keep on walking for another day? The wind caresses my cheek like an old friend. Always there to push me forward. The sun is waiting for me in its eternal twilight. Waiting, but only for a certain amount of time, until I leave this eternal field but are they really what they claim to be?

I'm falling, the earth pulling me down, putting all of its weigh on top of me. Now that's a lie. I only fell down to my knees. But who will help me up?

The wind, will it always push me forward or will it just turn its back and sail away?
The wheat, that strokes my hand in false flattering but will disappear at the end of the field?
The sun with its warm touch but only stays for just so long?
Maybe I should just stay with the earth. With the promise of safety and stability, but I'm going to sink with all that weigh on my shoulders. When the earth's cold embrace pulls me down I'll choke, very slowly, until I can do nothing more than crave for air to breathe, but never receiving it.

The wind whispers
"Follow me into the sky. Let's soar through the skies and beyond the horizon. "
The wheat giggles
"Dance with us in freedom and joy. To never feel weighed down by sorrow and pain."
The sun beams
"I will offer you light and warmth but there's no eternity.
The cold is crushing down.
Earth taunts
I offer no such silly things. I only offer safety. What more is there really?

The ground is swallowing me up. I'm sinking slowly. Darkness and the cold are creeping through. One last voice calls to me.
"Why can't you enjoy the wind's freedom, the wheat's joy or the sun's warmth?"
"Why spend time on something that won't remain? Why strive for anything if I'm only going end up missing it to the point of having a breakdown? Why start a fire if it's only going to die out in the end?"
"Because the glow will remain after it goes out and there may be a chance for another fire, if you give it the right care."

I'm not sinking anymore. The weight is gone. I'm rising, up on my feet, a bit shaky at first I take slow steps forward. The wind is kissing my cheek, the wheat is taking my hand and the sun has me in its warm embrace. The earth is trembling in pure anger. I'm flying forward and I see the end of the field. There's something hiding at the end. A calm voice is calling for me. The wind whispers a farewell, the golden field caresses my hand one last time before I leave but the sun remains.

I don't know what I expected to find but this was not it. Broad and stable with branches that reach the heavens, green leaves that dances with the wind. A tender voice.
"What you see is what you get. Nothing more, nothing less. You may rest by my tree trunk and climb my branches. Be careful thou, for both of our sakes. My leaves will fall off soon as well."

The sun disappears without a word.
"My dear oak tree. To be able to rest my head on your tree trunk is all I can ask for."
I embrace the tree, sinking down to the ground but the cold and dread isn't there. My roots sink down in the ground. There's only an odd feeling of fulfillment, of peace. I will remain here. The wind's kiss, the wheat's touch and the sun's warmth will remain in my memory but the oak tree will remain here.