Watching the Grass Grow

For T.B.

Fields of dried brown grass,
Drought riddled earth, cursed.
It crunches beneath my bare feet,
Searing the bottoms as I walk.

No matter the number of tears I shed,
I could not revive the field.
I became jealous of everyone else's bliss.
How lushly green they looked.

Then along came you,
With a bucket of your hopes and dreams.
The water I needed for the dry plain.
You asked, 'May I?" pointing at the bucket.
I nodded a yes, and you poured out the contents like a river across the field.

Days go by, and we talk.
The past,
The present,
And the future.
Accepting everything beyond the faults,
As sprigs pop up around us.
Every day we come back, more grows.

The hexed earth is growing green.
Real and spongy grass, and I roll around in it.
My joy brings about your smile,
And you take your spot next to me.
My eyes misty, and you lean down for a lingering kiss.

It is sweet like ripened fruit,
You hold me tight,
I bury myself into you.
You still hold me like I'll fly away.

We watched the grass grow.
Together, we helped it grow.
Watering the earth of my field made my own grass green.
The happiness I found with you made it green.