Like Barley Bending

Photographer Unknown

  

    Like Barley Bending

    Like barley bending

In low fields by the sea

Singing in hard wind

Ceaselessly;

Like barley bending

And rising again,

So would I, unbroken,

Rise from pain;

So would I softly,

Day long, night long,

Change my sorrow

Into song. 

Sara Teasdale

This is the time of tall grass. In every ditch, every field, every vacant lot, these graceful swaying forms catch the breeze. They are one of my favorite things about summer. And this poem, this poem - this is as close to perfection as poetry gets. All I can say is Amen. So be it.