Love of pastures, but not the pastures.
Not the pastures of an ordinary silence met by an ordinary man,
An ordinary man with shoelaces that
Untied themselves mysteriously,
A man who should have worn buckled shoes.
A man who followed blind, breathed his way
Through life and time without stopping to take a breath.
But, perfidiously looking down at the
Mysterious shoelaces,
He noticed a blade of grass
Just beside his feet.
He stood, awe-struck,
Silent.
He was in the pastures.
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