Even Here

Sitting beneath
Spiny green
Fingers reaching
Always reaching 
To the sky

You can make a home

Bent grass
And summer winds 
Sweeping
Always sweeping
To the ground

Here 
Even here
You can make a home

Standing
Where spring showers 
Accumulate on outstretched limbs
And fall onto your head
The finches blown by the breeze
Know it all too well
That here,
Even here
You can make a home

With lime green eyes
Searching 
Always searching

New opportunity
New growth
Lie in wait 
Always a possibility

Here,
Even here

Its the secret 
Our ancestors knew 
You can make a home
Here

Even here.

Author: Buddhadoshā

Buddhadoshā loves you.

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