Across the length of ploughed earth
The grass grows tall and thick.
There’s a sense of ancient mystery
That dwells in every prairie.
It holds the forgotten secrets.
A door stands in the tall grass.
Leading into the unknown.
Who roams the tall grass,
Hidden in a mass of stems?
Who dwells there, in the unseen?
Who is sitting in the thicket,
Waiting for eternity?
What is it in the tall grass?
Waiting in the unknown?
A stream in the tall grass.
A stripe of blue in the green.
Water traveling across the world.
A pilgrim, going from there to here.
Coming from the world of yonder.
A creek flows in the tall grass.
Its source is the unknown.
Crows, they burst from the grass.
They were waiting unseen,
In the place where eyes do not go.
Streaks of darkness take to the air.
And they glide away. the realm of elsewhere.
Crows fly out of the tall grass.
They soar into the unknown.
Twilight falls over the land.
Casting a yellow glow on the grass.
Silence is waiting there
Hidden behind the noise.