photo credit: Scott Bourne
So she stood in a field among sturdy stalks
swimming into a sea of yellow
Pollen clinging to her dress like tears
on a dry check or moths to an cracked lamp
The stems unrelenting, milky green
and firm between her thumb and forefinger
I want to be like these flowers
Tall and rooted but bending, leaning,
with the breeze
Growing with only one desire- to thrive
to sprout, bud, and be harvested
No other desire but to live the life you’ve been planted into
With that determination comes a greater service
to be oil, food or fuel, to serve not the sun, soil, rain or dew
but something still unknown and omniscient
To lie in a field tarry with the heavy scent
of new blossoms and thirsting bees
to look through the lattice of the leaves
at endless green
Was it just yesterday that the empty fields
reflected the gray of the sky and tomorrow
they will be a blossomless green?
And she picked her bike from
grassy slumbers and rode it home
Into the sea of things
