At Ease

One might not notice

That the dip in the field

Is a magic mirror

A puddle

A pittance

A pond

Reflecting the sky above

upon the depths of its being

With want for a witness

To the dynamics of flow

Of life taking shape

Of the precision

Of the moment

The dome above

Perfectly sets off

The brilliance of all that it holds

An effortless blue

so standard

So sublime

Thus saturated

Fluffy chunks of white clouds

Outline the still bones

Of a leafless tree

Marshmallow foliage

Even dead she stands guard

In her purpose

A branch outstretched

A respite

A pair of doves

The hot glow of the setting sun

Heat my face, forearm, thigh

Rays shooting down and forth

In that particular angle

Illuminating everything with a halo of gold

Shiny

Showy

Strategic

Making visible

The perfect symmetry

The balance of all creatures

Great and small

In the meadow

I’m struck by the humble presence

Of the breathing things that keep me company

The angels wings of mature flowers

With impossibly thin

Filaments, Organized

Fierce and flexible

Dancing in the currency of the air

Tall, sweet grass frames my frame

The wonder is in the nuances of color

I pull gently at the base

Easing out green, white stalk

Hidden by the confidence of a darker green sheath

Topped with lavender-kissed seed heads

It contains the cooperation

Of sun, sky, soil

Compelled,

I place the stalk in my mouth

My teeth gently clamp

Not even a bite

If I was divorced from my breath

I would hardly notice

The sweetness awaiting

My destructive behavior of

Grinding and chewing

After drawing out the juice

I lay it to rest in its graveyard

Among its brethren

I’m grieving

I’m grateful

Sweet grass and I

Fulfilling our functions to live and die

Ease, full

A drop of nurture

Fills up lifetimes of longing