There is a blade of grass,
Lost among a million on the hill.
And yet I know its every breath,
And its promise yet to be fulfilled.
I know its golden winter hues,
I know its burnt black summers,
I know its first shade of green,
When the first drop of monsoon occurs.
Oh the forest fires and the purple skies!
Oh the languid days of the pastoral!
Oh the mellow sunsets and Aeolian winds
Oh the seasons of death and rebirth!
And all through those fearful seasons,
Did the blade of grass lie low and wait
It knew not what it longed for.
Maybe a chance to beat it’s fate?
And just when hope was on a brink,
My heart trembled like that blade of grass,
The waters cascaded from the skies
And you walked into my heart.
