I wrote this poem looking at the dry summer grass of the Northern California hills. I have always loved the sweet, dry earthy scent of the hillsides in summer. And in this moment the long suffering of grass in summer really struck me. I was also in a period of waiting and not yet understanding, and the posture of the dry grass became a prayer of my soul. A simple image to turn my heart to God who brings renewal in His time... I am just a blade of dry grass whispering through the wind I shutter and whisper Wait Shutter and whisper again I am bending low listening I am just a blade of grass dry and parched Thin as a whisper I shutter and bend I am just a blade of dry grass, dry as dry wind I am listening to my brothers They whisper with me Bending low Listening to the ground Listing to the song Carried on the winds A song of summer Sunlight aching Searching the earth Waiting for a body Waiting to warm and touch something anything anyone A blade of grass like me Dry as dirt Thin and bri