To Lie in Grass by Lee Robison

Image / Mohamed Weaam

To Lie in Grass

To lie in a meadow uncut by suburbia or for the commerce of hay,

to lie in this aura, this odor of soil and curing grass, 

to lie under the flagging blooms of Timothy, Brome, or Western Bunch

bannering against a blue so vast that whole lives cannot know it,

to lie in this overture of death and let timelessness lengthen 

with the shadows of the sun, to lie thus, 

past shadows, into the fuller shadow of night, 

yes, to lie with flickering stars 

and the great lights dancing above wind-wavered grass,

is to worship all that is worthy of worship.

And to lie, when my time is past in this pasture of grass— 

to lie when this overture is over, 

to lie stilled at last, with the winnowed grasses of winter

until roots gather what’s left and lofts, 

molecule by molecule through leaves and blooms–  

to release what no longer is 

and waft it into the light-dappled dark 

where it may dance, perhaps, in the gyre of stars.  

© Lee Robison

Lee Robison

Lee Robison has retired from Federal service. He lives with his wife in Montana on a sliver of the ranch he grew up on, a couple of mountain valleys west of The Paradise. Lee currently works as a potter, poet, and storyteller. His collection of poems, titled Have, was published by David Robert Books in 2019. 

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