To My Grandson

If one dull summer day you should find yourself in a melancholy mood, go for a walk through the meadow until you spot a green flat blade of tall grass with a sharp edge, and place it taut from the base of your hands between both thumbs, the tip reaching beyond the fingertips with palms touching. Find the gap between the thumbs, pucker your lips and blow with force, slow and steady until the blade quivers and sings.

the wind spoke

and the grass danced—

song of the meadowlark 

by Marilyn Fleming (USA)

Presence, Winter 2020