Meadow
Lean down. Lie down
into the grass, into the feeling.
It rises, damp, to meet me,
always a little more than right.
Love adds.
Then up, barefoot,
into the next thing —
be it a face, be it carelessness,
be it sweet disaster.
into the grass, into the feeling.
It rises, damp, to meet me,
always a little more than right.
Love adds.
Then up, barefoot,
into the next thing —
be it a face, be it carelessness,
be it sweet disaster.
Living a life, in the meadow,where this sense is walked in — not toward.