Like wet grass green, like soft treading across, when the morn came,

Like wet grass lain across
Your feet nimble soft
Like you treading across
On me as rainy drops,
Came the morn,
Pitter patter happening
The whole night long
As if the night to You be longed
And the morn bore witness
To your feet marks
Laid upon
Like marks left on my soul,
Your sole,
Whose feet me always sees...
In dreams, rhythmic
In waking...
In prayers
As if in you
me searches Her


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