Right smack dab in the middle of a patch of red clay,
one blade of grass dared to grow.
The mud hogged all of the water and reflected the sun away,
but still the blade of grass grew.
The summer remained hot and dry, her knees stayed locked.
She stood strong, becoming taller and greener with each passing day
while all the blades of grass in the neighborhood, laughed and mocked
at the lone blade with chants of withering away
all alone in the dried up mud pile. But still, she grew.
One morning in mid August when the sun rose,
in the middle of that patch, she found a crew
of ten had gathered with a pose
of unwavering strength. Being in cahoots,
they swayed in unison with each passing breeze,
getting stronger by joining at the roots.
That patch grew thicker and tighter, becoming greener than trees
and greener than any grass that ever grew.
All the grass in the all the world stopped mocking and
the most amazing thing ensued,
all the grass in all the world joined together by the hand
to fill the world with the warmth of summer,
all year long.
