By Parson Thru
The grass has been cut for the very first time.
The sky is cold, the wind keen,
but the smell of summer is pungent.
It fills my nostrils with gentle evenings,
my eyes with the softest rain.
The air is alive with swallows.
I lie on the earth that gave me breath
and feel the love in this life.
Whatever tomorrow might bring,
nothing can take this moment away.
My purpose is simply to be.