By: James G. Piatt

I devour the rocks that lie
Beneath my wandering feet,
The bushes with red flowers
That line the hungry brook,
Then I digest nouns, verbs and
Prepositions that paint the
Landscape with edible poems.
I listen to the grumbling earth, the
Gurgling of rushing water that consumes
Its stony bed, and the Birch tree that
Sings leafy ballads, while
Blue birds fly upside down in the
Morning currents of orange colored air:
Then I taste the green rice thoughts
Which blow in from the east, and smell
The petals that cover warty frogs hiding in
The lotus leaves in a torpid pond, and
I smile and marvel about Life.