The Sacrament

From the ground you sprout
Looking like little soldiers.
Awakened by the thunderous rain

Natives of the cold hills,
Sometimes stepped on by the silent beast
That roams the hills.

Wearing little yellow caps
and sweating blue,
They have a lot to teach.

Listen and embrace them
and they will open an eye you didn’t think you had.
Millenniums of Spiritual knowledge they bring
and in the language of love they teach.

 

 

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