Beneath the vast and open skies,

Green with sheen, its strength concealed,

A silent power, steadfast and real,

A humble hero softly lies.

Though storms may rage, and tempests roar,

When rollers press, when feet tread down,

It bears the weight, without a frown,

It bows but rises, as before.

It asks for naught, it claims no fame,

A feast for beasts, a field for play,

It gives its all, then fades away,

Yet nurtures all, without a name.

Through hail and rain, through sun and strife,

The leader’s heart, it mirrors well,

An altruist’s tale, its story tells,

It holds the essence of true life.

Oh, grass, the quiet, unsung soul,

In giving all, you stand so tall,

The truest hero, after all,

You teach me strength, you make me whole.

– George Panicker