Four-Leaf Clover

On hands and knees with face to the ground;
searching for the clover like a basset hound.
The four-leaved clover is the goal, is the aim;
going through the ocean of 3's just like a game.
Find the four-leaf clover is what needs to be done.
Looking down. This way - that way; my head is spun.
There it is! 1,2,3,4. But I've gone through this often before.
One blends with one, then two with some more.
That clover, like the last clover, has three but no more.
Check around the tree that stands in the ocean.
The thought that it's found when it's not, brings such emotion.
Searching through life for that one special clover.
The hunt led me to beauty so I wouldn't do over.
Even when I walk into the tree,
I am so focused on green that I don't even see.
The hunt is for the clover, not trees in my way.
I'll open my eyes. I will. One day.
I'll finally look up from this cloned sea of clover.
In an instant, that moment, the search will be over.
The feeling indescribable of words from any land.
The beauty overtakes my knees, I can hardly stand.
Blossoms of red, white, and pink float in the air.
Now that I notice, all I can do is stare.
Seeing it now, is really hard to get over.
You're the cherry tree in my field of clover.

February 2010