When the tide is low
the center of the meandering river
reveals small islands of lush green grass.
How this grass took root,
in such a tenuous spot,
is a wonder.
The water constantly moving
buffets the sturdy tufts.
when the sky clouds and the rain descends,
the gentle islands of grass
Rushing liquid pours over the grass,
causing a slight disturbance
in the river’s flow.
Had I not seen the majestic stalks waving
in the low tide,
I would not hold
the delicious secret I have now.
Hidden below the shimmering surface
lies an oasis,
a verdant respite
from the world’s turmoil.
If only the brave reeds can withstand
the urgent march of changing times.