Spring Grass

The new grass pushes, bent and twisting, in the flooded field, soft as a lover’s promise, a whisper swaying with desire; a wisp of green, motions together in bright hues. The sun falls across, creating warmth, joy from small things. I could do nothing but agree with the growth, affirm with the swirl and rise, where all lies next, together, in color, in time, each clump celebrated for how it reaches forth.

The earth and I, hand-in-hand, touch the new tender life. Every blade stretches, chases the sky.

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