The Old Grass Fields Are Burning
06/04 2021
The old grass fields are burning
The wintery soul is walking by
A young cat stretching outside your window
He watches, quietly, most reflectively
There's a most interesting turn to his step
To the way he thinks before he moves.
All of this in the space of a moment
That reminds you of how much you've really lost
Most people are nothing but reflections
In the mirror they bought long ago at the antique shop
Around the previous corner.
It hangs over their door
With a black frame
And crackly, shiny surface
With nothing in it but storm clouds
If you squint towards the backdrop.
I have gazed into the abyss,
But I set sail anyways ---
Toward the mountains forming a gate in the background.
The old grass fields are burning
The summer begins to come by for afternoon tea & biscuits
But the cat remains on the edge of your windowsill
It stretches and yawns
It looks at you as if to make you superstitious
That there in fact is more than you could ever speak
The devil with no lie of separation
Preaches the gospel of God,
And merges once more.