I'm just riffing here, folks, so go easy on me. My lawn beckoned my presence in its own whimsical way The grass had long tentacles, each one cleaving at my very existence I backed off in order to reassess the situation, blade sharpened My nerves of iron, my honed blade steely, I approached these god-creatures in my own humble way Remembering that to the greened wisps, I must appear to be omniscient All-powerful, life or death, a chasm of eternity Whose mission it was to force homogeneity to each greened tuft
