Midday Meadow

Green is all I see,
as the meadow spreads it's hands,
as if trying to embrace,
both edges of the world.

And I, a humble servant
sit here by myself,
a lonely wooden swing
going back and forth.

I'll never be alone here -
surrounded by my friends,
butterflies and bees,
my feet they kiss and tell.

I'll wait here on the swing,
under midday sun, until
the day becomes undone,
the day becomes undone.