Grass Accepts

The grass accepts the cigarette ends & brown crawly things
thrown out of the tent.
The earth, the largest orphanage in the universe, patiently tolerates
our childish whims & antics.
Our tears & shooting at each other,
pouring salt into the fruit salad & placing bombs underneath things.
A strong wind blowing, the tent clutches the earth as tightly as a child
hangs onto its Mother’s hand. I am writing in a horizontal position, the strength
necessary to understanding this world is rising up through my stomach.
The blades of grass straining upwards point me in the right direction. Love,
Love gives us a chance to win through despite our own being.

~ Jacek Podsiadlo

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