The day is warm,
a morning cover of cloud has dissipated by midday
revealing heavens so blue, it’s as though you are
staring straight into the face of god. Perhaps so.
Sunshine spills and splashes unto the landscape
dousing the meadow in a drunken bliss.
But it is the wildflowers that catch the eye
with their golden-orbed, white-petaline radiance,
a grassy universe of perennial sun stars.
In the distance, a mountainous wind gust curls
around the granite peaks, the breath of a giant
that rustles teetering treetops, and like a deep-sea swell
it rolls over the vale with a crescent W-H-O-O-S-H
until it swallows me utterly in one immense gulp.
In a valley pass, I am
like an eagle I glide
above the land,
like a fish I breathe
beneath the sea,
beyond the ego-bound
barriers of body and mind,
I am the Earth,
her chartreuse covered
I am her ruddy dust in
and from within,
I am light.