Ode to Grass
On my way from TO to Montreal
every blade of grass an
Epiphany---a shade of green
emerald across the landscape
creeping around willows filling
in the runs with long blades
pricking the air around its presence.
Like a beard of Irish green
it protrudes from the ground
between the roots of fame
creeping in all directions
a revolution of silence
until all at once the wind
motions it forward as a
great army of direction
sweeping tall and strong
covering bloating the land
and I am the receiver of
this great mass of meaning.
I watch transfixed where once
the land was covered in white crystals.
© 2008 Richard L. Provencher
All Rights Reserved
Published Feb 15, 2009
Short Story Library
Shortstory.us.com.
Comments
sarah wilson | July 31, 2009 - 11:14
I really enjoyed this one Richard:)
sarah x
Nathan Bednarek | July 31, 2009 - 11:54
'until all at once the wind
motions it forward as a
great army of direction
sweeping tall and strong
covering bloating the land'
This bit is my favourite, but the whole poem is very effective. The last stanza is a spit'n'polish finish. Well done.
Nathan.
Richard L. Prov... | July 31, 2009 - 15:57
Thank you, Nathan. My muse is rippling right now, an extended wind in flight, and I am a song within the elements of my being. Hey, this might make a good poem, ha. Words just rush out of me in a sweep of exhultation. Life is good, cherish it. Though your nay sayers are noisy in the stream of life, hang onto your sensibilities. Chimo. Richard LP
Richard L. Prov... | July 31, 2009 - 16:00
Hello sarah x, your kind comments are also very welcome. Writing can be a lonely business, and the reward may only be the soothing of one's soul; but what an adventure, as words swirl through space in one great vagabond of flight. Until forever. Richard LP
Richard L. Prov... | July 31, 2009 - 16:00
Richard L. Provencher