Though everyone looks to the sky.
Return comes up from the ground.

No bells or haleluiahs.
Weeds unfurl their trumpets.

Red carpet gathers seeds and burrs.
The carpet the Spirit treads is green.

Green, green.
Every cloud shapes a welcome home.

Ha, loved it. Break out the Roundup and let loose the spigot of moonshine.

Like this, Rick! Tom

Again enjoying the great idea at the center of this poem, Rick. Would it make sense to switch lines 3 & 4. To me, because of the nature of L1-2, 3-4 reads as if there's a "but" between them, which works better the other way around?

What is the red carpet? Tom

Enjoyed, Rick, and contemplating our conception of 'weeds', and how best to fertilise same.

milner

dear Rick

enjoying here the inspirational gifts of sprouting weeds.

silent lotus

Ah! I see the scene. Loved it.

Yeah man, nice poem. Especially that 2nd verse,

No bells or haleluiahs.
Weeds unfurl their trumpets.

very nice.

Ross

nice

Beautiful green rush!

Roger

I love the first half, but found the third couplet is hard going I got a little lost, I think I understand where you are coming from, maybe just needs something more to pull it back to Earth. I love the final image - of clouds shaping welcome homes!
Nice one.
Mike

Thanks, Tom, for your keen thinking. 

Siwtching L3 and 4  could work.  I'll try it.  The red carpet is status, prestige, the measurement of people against each other.  Nature seeks to reclaim it in favor of the green carpet that grows just because.  I guess.  Hell, I don't know.  I just write 'em.
Rick

Milner, Robin, silent, thanks!

Rohith, Ross, Scott, Roger,

Thanks!

Rick

Michael, the red carpet does come out of nowhere.  I think of it as the tendency to measure people against each other, as opposed to the green carpet, which is nature's way of just accepting.  Anyone can walk the green carpet.  Only the privileged ones get the red.

Rick