Deep Grief

the greatest grief I have found

is in knowing you cannot see

the forest

for the trees.

You look at clover

and see weeds

whereas I see

endless days of summer

wrapped in azure skies

hunting for luck

and weaving flower crowns

from butter cups.

You see cracks

in concrete

whereas I see opportunity,

space for wishes to grow

from the sunshine

of dandelions

and a home

for teamwork

in the form of the tiniest

but mightiest

of beings.

You scoff at helicopters

falling from trees

whereas I see

fairy wings dancing

falling to earth

seeking a place

in which to take root

and begin anew.

And oh how I weep in grief

for your eyes,

that while open

do not see.