Open Meadows

Empty,
Quiet,
Open thoughts and fields,
Hidden creatures and their lives,
Wonders outspoken and unspoken,
All before our minds.
 
Grass flying everywhere,
A symphony in silence,
The world of beauty comes to sight,
A thought been born to light.
 
Now it's night,
And all that hides,
Comes out alive,
To play.
For when all is silence,
Nowhere to hide,
Piranhas easy prey.
 
To return to day,
And blood spattered ground;
All goes back to hide.

ISA