Watch the blades of grass move slight
as You weave through each with ease,
Ever-unblinking upon your quest
possessing with mere squeeze.
Far-parted tongue lying mute
but your presence I have seen,
Wind worded trails lead to reveal
As long as you are lean.
Now lying low as sun shines high
coiled patience giving way,
One move too quick, my talons stick
then cast You clean away.
3-4-06
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem