The grasses shimmer
Bend, twist and twirl
Spreading their arms, their spinning forms
Towards the crinkled, smiling eyes
Of that fire in the sky
Jubilantly dancing in the embracing heat
Screaming, singing, crying for the beauty
That leaps inside of them
Reaching for the warmth, truly believing it’s in their grasp

A lone tree limply hangs its branches
Smirking at the foolish, naïve grasses, and their blissful ignorance
For they will always be reaching
His hardened form gave up that dream long ago
  
The wind weaves and spins through the grass,
Urging, encouraging, lifting them, igniting the passion within
They whisper words of love and ecstasy through the grass
For they have traveled the world over
And know this pure, unfaltering joy will fade
They too will become brittle, hollow
Like the tree that mocks them
To mask the nostalgia he feels
He grimaces at the sun, taunting and tempting

The sun sits in his knowing sky,
Pities the tree, smiles at the wind, and stirs the grasses
Always alluring, for it is the vague promise
That sends the grasses into a frenzy
For this moment
They are alive