#AnythingFriday
The Grass That Was Me
I was born a loser, always felt a loner.
Destined to kiss the land, ne'er to touch the sky grand.
I am easily swayed and have nothing but blade.
Puddles can make me drown, summer can burn my crown.
I wish I were a tree that could grow tall and free
Whose fruits could touch the sky and leaves would never dry.
Here is a wild flower as fresh as a shower.
It blooms with a sweet smile, attracting bees from miles.
One extreme summer day, a lightning struck the hay.
Fire spread and burned us all, and we were judged to fall.
The wild flower was gone, the tree had no more dawn.
The low-lying weak grass that was me, turned to dust.
The bright moon waxed and waned, and dark clouds rolled and rained.
The burnt earth seemed weeping, thirsty roots were growing
Until my first leaves grew, giving me life that's new.
Life is full of wonders, a puzzle to ponder.
I may not be a tree as tall as you can see.
I'm not a wild flower that blooms smiles of power.
All I have are green blades, my source of hues and shades.
Happiness is a choice, a million to rejoice.
(C) Jeffrey D. Cejero
09/03/2022
