Tall grass reaching out
In the field of chirping crickets
Coarse blades attempt to cling
What might lurk in thickets
Imagination runs rampant
Unlike wheat mingled with chaff
Far off is the trail
With its epitaph
Although a bird looks horizontal
To see open skies
Tall pines near mountaintops
A song that never dies
In this place of silence
Nature coexists in tranquil peace
Distantly is heard the bleating ewe
In this gracious masterpiece
~Moses~
© 2010 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
