From the fields in which we toil
or pass by without a second thought
there arise exceedingly strong grasses

Able to withstand high wind and rains
from which we seek shelter inside
yet upon entering we find them again

Those which are now beneath our feet
remind us of service in its many forms
and we take off our shoes in respect

They now reflect our outer world
woven over time by intention and skill
being transformed to grace us
with comfort and respite

And now in gratitude
I bow to you
sweet grasses of the world
for your service and your strength

cRb 12.23.15