Blades of grass
bow under the weight
Of so many drops of rain.
The pores of all plants are open
Drinking those molecules made
In the dust of some long-gone stars
billions of years ago.
Those blades of grass do what they do
In the presence of sun and of wind
Anticipation of the moment to come
Is built in each vibrating cell
No choice to turn this way or that
No planning of any kind
Except that which was arranged by the atoms
Contained in the seed
From which their whole being has sprung.
Rest now. Unfold all your senses
The sun, the wind and the rain
know no tenses
They listen to no weather report
Plants will live or they’ll die
At the moment the sky
Gives them water or heat
That’s just right
or is suddenly
too much to bear.
Do not wait
With each breath
To know what comes next
Breathe the air
Breathe the air
Breathe the air.