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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