I’m lying on the ground,
the bright sun warming my face,
a gentle caress,
the world alive in light.
Squinting, I rise,
hands brushing against the earth,
the grass a tapestry beneath my fingers—
strange, tall, smooth,
most gold with hints of green,
a whisper of summer in every blade.

Is it wheat?
I wonder,
each stalk a story,
roots deep in the soil,
reaching for the sky,
like dreams unfurling,
golden waves dancing
in the breath of the breeze.

I feel the warmth seep through,
the pulse of life beneath,
while the sun spills laughter
over the landscape,
turning the ordinary
into something sacred.

In this moment,
time stretches,
the world a canvas,
and I, a fleeting brush,
lost in hues of green and gold,
in the quiet magic of the earth.

https://www.pesem.si/a/objava/prikaz/186764/ali_je_to_psenica

Tomaž Jevšenak