If this is beautiful,
As crimson on a petal
the glint of laughter
in the loving eyes
the cool rush of streams
that head down a divide
this is life,
rushing upon us
seldom time to take a breath.
Then this is beautiful.
Childhood smiles of late night movies
long after the cinema closes
the reels play in our heads
distant places captivate our dreams
and roll them into us.
Every shade of life is in
this blade of grass
whirled between my fingers
I make it whistle and it pierces the sky.
