Who said the grass was greener on the other side? The one alone on the ***** soaked sidewalk? The bearded man walking two paces behind His wife while glancing my way? The woman with the frown, the hard face Eye rolling as the lovers smile into each otherβs eyes?
The fast food nation dying inside out The tilted heads, phone glowing, never noticing The world around, the clouds, the sky. The nation of talking heads stuck in the portals The aimless many searching for nothing in particular.
The grass is greenest when freshly sprouting Tender shoots reaching for the sky in hardy soil Grass matures into a strong and vibrant pasture Wild flowers and butterflies bouncing off sunlight Its season comes and goes light and dark.
Pity so few stay long enough to enjoy its seasons To see its growth to the fullest potential Inflated expectations lead to disappointment. Egocentric self-indulgence rolls along Jumping one flower to the next.
Love is not feeling gratification A heightened sense of intense emotion Love is not lust, lust is not Love. Love is not experienced in a moment. Love lies in-between the moments. Experienced in a lifetime.
That grass? No, it is not greener. It will turn just as the grass you stand in The faster you walk through it The less you will understand its beauty and wonder Between the moments.