You Grow Green Grass

I see most men as rocks compared to you,

Emotionless, shapeless, haven’t a clue;

You grow green grass all over their faces,

They’re beneath you in deep muddy places;

You’re a healthy green moss with nutrients,

You’re a rich carpet of ingredients;

You spread around lavish laughter and love,

You soak and give warmth from the sun above;

On a barren mountain of men you spread,

Spirit, wisdom; you cultivate the bed;

On hard, dull rock, which lies underneath you,

You paint green the gray, refresh and renew;

If only every man could be like you,

Spreading a rich carpet with all you do.