Still (Untamed Abundance)

I see prisms reflected on wet blades of grass

when the sun hits just right, 

before shadows dare pass.

Soft butterflies land, 

taking sips as they doze,

(and so do the wasps, but I don't dare count those.)

There is still beauty here, 

in the land where I dwell;

where never before could I picture myself.

I arrived here so young (though not so long ago)

I thought it'd be different, but what 

did I know?

My heart has as yet to catch up with my feet

or my feet with my heart? (I can't distinguish beats)

and if I keep moving, I never arrive

but then when I stop,

I'm still broken inside.

Even now, I hear music as wind blows the chimes.

Their notes sound discordant; don't quite harmonize;

yet they soothe me still, 

and I realize

it's not up to me to determine my times.

A shiver within, 

like the lightest leaf dance;

There is still beauty here,

in untamed abundance.