This Grass is Sacred

This grass is sacred.

This blade of green

grown from seed,

rising from soil,

has soul,

that sings.

Flowing with chlorophyll,

each tiller tells of a node;

a nod to an internode,

protected by blade and sheath

pointing to a spikelet

with a shared pair of glumes

that protrude long awnes

of protective bristles that shield beauty.

This grass is sacred.

Each blade has soul

forged through a struggle

of violent green,

shaping the scape of our aisles

and praising -

Mother.