#grasslands - Hello Poetry

# *sometimes it happens between storms.. the soft shift no one sees. the grasses turn as they always have, leaning into the rhythm that remembers year after year the true nature of the prairie lands. and the prairie knows.. how to bow without breaking, how each wave of grass mid-tempest still points home. the winter cold has passed. the grasses rise.. and within their return, my heart finds its Home.* #

0

May 6, 2025

May 6, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC

preston

What the Prairie Remembers..

# *sometimes it happens between storms.. the soft shift no one sees. the grasses turn as they always have, leaning into the rhythm that remembers year after year the true nature of the prairie lands. and the prairie knows.. how to bow without breaking, how each wave of grass mid-tempest still points home. the winter cold has passed. the grasses rise.. and within their return, my heart finds its Home.* #

23

# Along the priarielands-- rolling hills previously roamed by wild buffalo. Grouse sage hens prairie chickens pheasant hungarian partridge and now you-- You, in that pretty, flowing summer dress- walking that line.. between planted field and wild prairiegrass and not a blade is broken. Wind-- moving the grass and nearly-ripened crops like slow rolling waves out on the sea. Me.. watching you move.. just watching you-- move.. along that line between beautifully-planted and natural.. and moving with understanding; flowing-- ever-growing knowing.. sweetly knowing that there's a glowing from what you are showing-- me; Not a blade of grass or crop is ever harmed by your movements instead.. like me, they thrive-- leaning into you whenever you are near. . . . I am the grass the blade the crop-- ready for harvest the bison and the upland bird the forever wave hello of the tall grass of the prairie. And you are as much a part of it all as you are of me. Like the native grass and the native Lakota that have both always known its ways.. you were always meant to be here. #

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Sep 11, 2022

Sep 11, 2022 at 2:11 PM UTC

preston

planted fields.. among the tall grass

# Along the priarielands-- rolling hills previously roamed by wild buffalo. Grouse sage hens prairie chickens pheasant hungarian partridge and now you-- You, in that pretty, flowing summer dress- walking that line.. between planted field and wild prairiegrass and not a blade is broken. Wind-- moving the grass and nearly-ripened crops like slow rolling waves out on the sea. Me.. watching you move.. just watching you-- move.. along that line between beautifully-planted and natural.. and moving with understanding; flowing-- ever-growing knowing.. sweetly knowing that there's a glowing from what you are showing-- me; Not a blade of grass or crop is ever harmed by your movements instead.. like me, they thrive-- leaning into you whenever you are near. . . . I am the grass the blade the crop-- ready for harvest the bison and the upland bird the forever wave hello of the tall grass of the prairie. And you are as much a part of it all as you are of me. Like the native grass and the native Lakota that have both always known its ways.. you were always meant to be here. #

53

Africa: It is a lost place One thinks of sunny Blue skies And then thunderstorms Of running through Vast, vast, vast Open grasslands Of cooking on a fire, Of looking out Over the hills of our Homeland, homeland, home - Land, land, land

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Mar 12, 2021

Mar 12, 2021 at 4:39 AM UTC

speakalittlefr

Africa

Africa: It is a lost place One thinks of sunny Blue skies And then thunderstorms Of running through Vast, vast, vast Open grasslands Of cooking on a fire, Of looking out Over the hills of our Homeland, homeland, home - Land, land, land

13

none of you are strong or independent how many do you rely on for your food? your gas? electric, and the roof overhead? this is a fixed system a racetrack where all the horses are doped all i can say is, stop running

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Jan 12, 2021

Jan 12, 2021 at 10:05 PM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

Horses On The Range

none of you are strong or independent how many do you rely on for your food? your gas? electric, and the roof overhead? this is a fixed system a racetrack where all the horses are doped all i can say is, stop running

9