Meditation in the Hill Country On greenest grass I sat that day of spring And peered upon the purple-hued vervains And oaks alive with vibrant leaves of green As winds of cold ‘neath cloudy skies remained: A view around me I have viewed before With love eternal for this stolen land; On greenest grass I sat to breathe the lore, I sat to feel the wind upon my hand, To close my eyes and understand my death, To meditate on nothing but the air— Be mindful of the existential breath— Though knowing not how futures bold may fare. And yet, sun shines on ev’ry cloud above, And moon does glow on ev’ry star of love.
Byron López Ellington (byronlopezellington.com) is a seventeen-year-old Mestizo writer from the central Texas hill country. He has previously been published in Grand Little Things and is published or forthcoming in Juven, Black Cat Magazine, Journal of Erato, Warning Lines, Hyacinthus Mag, and Moonchild Magazine, among others. He is the founder and editor of the radical literary magazine Rulerless (rulerless.org), and can be found on Twitter @byronymous.