The stretch of grass
Once lush and green
is now stunted
and colorless.

Another bright summer
has past and the
Bountiful harvest
has been plucked out.
The earth’s gifts
enjoyed by both
young and old.
Their mouths
hungrily gobbled up
the bounty.
And now the ground
is bare, colorless
Still with no life.

In spring the
new sprout shows there is
No death, no end
Just a new beginning.
An opportunity to embark
On a journey of inner knowing,
Inner peace, inner stillness.
Uttering hints at what may come to be.

Inspired by Walt Whitman “A Child Said, What is the Grass?”