Turning Green


I’d like to be the moss growing on a stone.

Can you hear me through all that green?


I want to know:

What is it like to see the sun dappled

on your face all day long?

What is it like to hear countless

drops of rain become true song?

What is it like to feel the feet

of butterflies dancing in your dew?

Can you smell the pine trees

better than I?

Do you grasp each moment

and hold it closer to your heart?

I hear your answer and accept with grace.

Now I understand.

I am the scent of the pine tree

and the feet of butterflies dancing.

I am the rain and the countless drops

of true song.

I am the sun, the stone

and the moss. Growing, I am

turning green.