I can learn much from grass. It offers me sweet softness, regardless of the burdens that I carry. Today I wandered in a field of summer green accompanied by Failure, my cheeky child. She tired and curled up within herself, and slept, as children need to do. I headed out to hike toward far fields of possibility glad she couldn't tag along threatening me with memories of all duties I have dodged all choices made that hurt loved ones all goals left unattained But she awoke. “You cannot leave me," she demanded sitting up, arms akimbo, "I insist on coming with you.” So I returned and smoothed her hair, eased her back into recline. She soon dozed off again, as children need to do. I left her sleeping there and began my exploration in vast meadows beyond wrongdoing where Failure cannot venture.
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing
There is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
The world is too full to talk about.