That spring night air
filled with Moonbeams
weighted with clouds
The coolness of night cascades into my thirsty lungs
like a late evening rain after a hot dry day
rushing into the soil to cool and heal it’s cracked skin
There are fresh green leaves on the pin oak
rustling together
giddy with the excitement of children not ready to go to bed
aflutter with anticipation for the next day’s adventure
A hare, having seen my approach, observes me as I walk by
tenderly munching on clover and tulips
clearly content to be in this wonderland, not Alice’s
What the hare’s home must be like
fragrant with the smell of soil
cozy with family
full of the four leaf clovers that they dare not eat
for the neighborhood cat is not far away and they could use all the luck they can get
The lilac bush
I can smell her before I see her
her sweet aroma begs me to stop, and breathe
and so I do
She works away steadily metabolizing pollen
gifted to her by her partners in evolution
already preparing for the distant fall and winter
But we cannot think that far in advance
for tomorrow it will be 80°
we must remember to forget the sunscreen
go fly our kite
walk with the woods
give thanks for the presence that surrounds us
and at the end of the day capture these moonbeams in a jar
