An ordinary blade of grass
No different from thousands of others
Lining the bank of the creek where I sit
Surrounded by wild violets, mountain ferns, grasshopper weeds
–a field of green.
I reach out and touch the single, slender shoot
Pulling it up from amidst its neighbors,
Sacrificing its life for my curiosity.
It slides smoothly between my fingers
As I pull it from root to tip—
Then I pull it back
The texture changes from smooth to rough, jagged, sharp.
I bend it over my forfinger
The sun reflects off its surface,
Changing the color from green to shining silver
Highlighting the ridges that run
Vertically along its length
Unseen until that moment.
As I look more closely at the field of green around me
Notice the grass, violet leaves, ferns, weeds—
All are different shades of green.
The blades of grass-verdant green.
The violet leaves-green, yet subtly blue.
The mountain fern-green, tinged with yellow.
The grasshopper weeds-green topped in feathery brown.
And I see that green is more than color.
Green is life.