The Meadow

Editor’s Contribution
By Richard Grahn
Evanston, Illinois, USA

i stand in a blossoming meadow
clover, poppy, and black-eyed Susan
ripples of fragrance soften the breeze
summer’s bouquet
dancing with the clouds
light-years away
from the horrors of war

i’m a simple child chasing butterflies
sun dazzling the world around
comes the buzz of a bee making honey
i’m up to my knees in a field of unknowns
imagination unfettered
but, oh, so ill-equipped
to see beyond the flowers

to see those far-off fields
trampled into blood
to envision men in 3-piece suits
playing chess in marble towers
the scribes rewriting history
bankers funding violence
all i see is violet and green

a ladybug lands on my shoulder
like me, another passerby
young men die and mothers weep
my mind wanders
through knee-deep flora
jungles swallow a generation
what do i know of capitulation?

here in the meadow
of dancing petals
storm clouds roll in
i’m soaked to the roots
under rumbling thunder
firmament and earth
in a torrid embrace

oblivious to the fires of Hell
stoked with lives gone up in smoke
barely aware of my footprints
i stare through the downpour
rivulets coursing over my eyes
i’m in tune with nature’s philosophy
evil obscured behind a veil of rain

a crack in the heavens appears
the tempest subsides
wind whispers to the earth and me
as flowers bow their heads in prayer
here where the sky and meadow meet
clouds wave their flag of peace
a rainbow over blossoms.

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