The morning grass ripples afresh,
As the silent roar of the wind,
Trails patterns in pastoral mesh,
To the command of air so thinned.
A breezy river surges through,
The grassy feed of silent hills;
The shifting tide of heavens blue,
Instructs blades of green as it wills.
Rebel tufts throughout stand steadfast,
Against the blessings of the sun,
Martyrs shown by the shadows cast,
Until the final sunset's done.
The grassland rolls forever on,
Even beyond the closing dawn.
Inspired by a visit to the largest grassland in the world. 'nuff said?