I AM

I AM the radiant sunburst, the painted skyscape behind the power lines and strip malls I AM the roiling storm clouds of deep blue gray the mysterium tremendum I AM the dark veined chrysalis hanging silent awaiting the joy of resurrection I AM the eyes of a child sparkling, guileless, unveiled for whom all things are new I AM the mountain in whose sheltered valley you dwell I AM the tiniest forest of lichens on the rock at your feet I AM the bridal white blossom flinging wide its petals for the pleasure of bees and butterflies caring not for praise or thanks I AM the whisper to drop your pen, your camera, your busyness to sit still and listen
by Celeste Boudreaux, June 2019
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