Summer has come. The grass has stopped growing; shocked by heat and lack of rain. Despite this, there are new flowers on the prairie. Butterflies and bees dance around them. A fish splashes in the shallows of the pond. Days are long, punctuated by work and rest. Events of the world come and go. We walk on the edge of eternity always.
Every now and then, a thunderstorm passes through; a rumble and flash in the night. Frogs sing for joy. Days pass. The sun makes its lazy arc across the sky, while we toil below. In the end, only love follows us. As an older person, I see things differently. I am diminished, but I am happy. Evening comes, a breeze sweeps over the prairie, and the Buddha hides in the tall grass.