Nov 3, 2008

Relax, J.Grey

by John Grey

On a warm afternoon,
my blood flutters
in a butterfly's wings.
In the guise of a wildflower,
my hands rise
in a thin green stalk.
My breath is free
to join the other air
at any time.
My heart beats
like a tree grows.
Where I lie,
my body is more
soft, dry grass.
I don't so much
look up at the sky
as release my eyes
among it.