of me of we (of sunlight and grass)

the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel


the green
of today
gives the lie
to dark thoughts

it is me . . .

it is

who are so
by these times

the grass
continues to sing
under a warm
summer sunlight
in the morning

when I look
upon it
I am caught up
in the verdant colour
and vibrant life
of the thing


and it lives
of me of we

the sun
is gorgeously warm –
not yet
hot –
and I close my eyes

raise my face
into it

let these rays
strike hope
into the heart
of we


7 thoughts on “of me of we (of sunlight and grass)

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