In the Meadow
In the meadow, where daisies grow,
And Indian paintbrush peers through green,
The rivers weave, and breezes flow,
A canvas rich, a tranquil scene.

Each laughter of the lark above,
Calls out the joy of brightened days,
In every hue, a shade of love,
In every step, my heart conveys.

The gentle sway of grasses fine,
A dance beneath the bright sky light,
In nature’s arms, my soul aligns,
To capture all that feels so right.

So let me linger, let me stay,
In this meadow, a sacred place,
With gratitude, I’ll hum and play,
For life, in nature’s soft embrace.

• Richard Crashaw