GREEN GRASS

Never knew why for truth
Turf of grass
Sod on surface soil
Hang under the roots maze

Is it a puzzle
through which
Utensil of love
Cooks its palatable food

Is denizen of love
Occupy the ember core
From where the flares
Evoke sentient form

Why for the ambience
Of eternal love
Is denigrated
In eternal death

Never stamped upon any Aliens
Far off THERE,
Green grass sodding
With roots so strong