Almost a prayer - or: What is my job?
Every tree has a soul,
every flower, that grows,
every meadow, which greens
every river, that flows.
And even a stone
has a name of it's own.
A tiny flee
and the bumblebee,
each single blade of grass,
the swimming fish,
every humans wish
and the clouds filled with rain -
on earth we will remain
till the day we are called
to a land unknown.
No more question to ask,
no more suffer or frown.
The stars seem desireable,
and may be they are,
but a long way to go.
No one travels so far.
Only here we can breathe
on this precious ground.
The Mother of all -
she takes care all around.
My job left to do:
maybe rescue a bee -
as a matter of fact
nothing else bothers me.
![She was born in our garden in summer 2013 - sedge hawker](https://image.jimcdn.com/app/cms/image/transf/dimension=480x10000:format=jpg/path/s62e1aeee57b84a4a/image/i9bfc170c2b62b62d/version/1393765200/image.jpg)