Relax
written by: John Grey
Amid the oaks and alms,
I lie, by the pond,
like my own answered prayer
in late spring’s forever season.
In these times,
I am a descendent of rivers,
a human grass stalk
and a dance partner of leaves
who happens to be sitting this one out.
With eyes closed, I thumb through
the Bible of all this greenness.
I immerse myself in Genesis,
read Exodus reluctantly.
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