Becoming the Grass

The only sound I hear is that of blades of grass

As they brush each other under the cool touch of the wind.

It sounds almost like dull chimes-

The Earth's lullaby calling me to sleep under a painted sky.

The sun is beginning to fade, but left in its place are clouds of every color.

Some are bright, while others are barely visible

Against a background of indigo-colored velvet.

I fall into the cleansing grass as smells of earth

And flowers rush me to a place of peace.

Even when I close my eyes, I can feel the green.

It is the symbol of strength- everchanging, yet always there to comfort me.

I spread my arms and feel as though I am becoming the Earth.

As the stars begin to make themselves known to the endless ceiling of sky.

I am a spectator seeing with the eyes of the grass.

The sky looks even greater from this angle as I lose myself in the sheer size of it.

My body is lost to me and now all that exists is the wind in my hair

And the sky as angels ignite their candles that flicker above me in rhythm with the wind.

Sleep will come soon as I am not with my body any longer.

Instead I am floating on the air that unites the Earth

With the sea of stars over head.

I am like the grass- content to be still and flow with the elements.

Reviews

[Laura E. Aranda]

I want to whisper my response to this lest I disturb you....this was very very good. I am glad I stumbled across it. Keep on writing! We all need more work like yours to read. Cheers,lea

[Shapeshifter]

WOW....Babe. That was utterly brilliant. Great idea to liken the blades of grass to 'dull chimes'. Then the earth would be God's symphony. I would swim in his glory and make the heavens my ocean, and love forever. This moves me in the deepest of ways. five stars. B

[J.B. Hastings]

I love this poem. It's Beautiful.