I have tasted a grape.
Its seed created a grand
landscape of grace.

An ocean where rivers beat,
an oasis where believers meet.

Mountaineous spines pointing
upwards inwardly.
Magic wines no longer trapping
downwards outwardly.

Root walls nurture tree leaves,
leaves fall to nurture tree sleeves.

A gracescape from one great grape seed.

Outwards man wishes to possess
the inward seed,
but nothing grows
in withering landscape.

The rivers mount
and flood and flow
the seed with riches,
which grows and glows;

Upon the path
that is walked
by no mere mortal man.