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