i am the summer

i am the buzz of a cicada
which sings to itself
on a lonely prairie
of maple bark
shaded by the green solar panels

i am the squawk of a blue jay
cacophonous and persistent
a trickster
hidden in the bushes in front of your house

i am the tickle of an ant
crawling across the smooth expanse
of your left foot
searching for something
anything
that may be of use to the Colony

i am the Secret
which the wind
whispers into the ear of an oak tree
passed down through the generations
and heard by One
who remembers how to Listen

i am the flutter in the heart
of a child of twenty one
who hears the call of Spirit
and questions whether she has heard
anything at all

i am the sizzle of an onion on a hot grill
i am the chirp of a cardinal calling to its mate
i am a lonesome dobro in an empty cafe
i am a piece of cherry pie shared with a stranger on a rainy day
i am a puddle undernieth a swing while a rainbow stands guard just beyond the pine trees
i am a molecule in a sea of orange that gods call "marigold"
i am a crow shitting unabashedly on the heads of passers by
i am the song of rain on a canopy of leaves as two gods sit below
discussing their Creation