A blade of grass
Blown in the wind
Is no less great in the end
(And there is no end)
Than the wind
Or the mountain
Than man, woman
Or anything else in the seas or on land
Worth
Is the demand
That what is inherently great
Earn its rank
Or the reprimand
That would delay
Or take away
Life's sincerest say
In the heart of the matter
That Love
Is all that matters
And need not earn it's way
But that it IS
The Way
Of infinity
In the seconds, minutes and hours
Of all our time measured nights and days
Of greater worth?
Highest Creation has no need of such worthless words

mike