The Greenest Grass

How oft does the grass

Appear greener to the

Fickle mind

Always looking far off

Into the future or even

The nearest tomorrow

Unhappy with today

Making a jump

Into the perception

That color saturation

Is conceivably better

On some other plain

Only to find upon arrival

That gray is the new green

And nothing has changed

For better or worse

While tomorrow really

Never comes

Today should be

Of more concern

For in that

We hold the responsibility

Of happiness to ourselves

Not in some other person

Not in some other location

But right here

And of that which surrounds us

The best should be made

For in that the magic

Of happiness finds release

If only

From time to time

We would look at our feet

And realize

That we are already standing

In the greenest grass


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