This (blade of grass)

 
The bottom half folds into the stem the way
some tongues do, cupping a soft streak 
of shadow. 

The top half glistens with sparkle 
and subtle sun glaze. It bends forward 
to a slightly drooping tip. Beneath it 
hangs a bold sphere 
of dew;       

(
                  It could be any 
              blade of grass, but its not 
                         just any 
                     blade of grass,                its this 
             blade of grass

 here before me as the sun hovers above the canopy
                   to cheerfully greet
                        this day, this breath,                   this 
             blade of grass

 that through chance or circumstance or something 
                             unknown
             has enchanted me into a beauty
                       so deep
            that {even if it could 
                           get any better}
) 

all I really want 
is this.


About Sitaram Dass

kirtan, devotion, activism, and writings at sitaramdass.com View all posts by Sitaram Dass

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