Saunter

The cherry tree knows without saying

why the sun enjoys

an aubade, starts prancing

preening, with alacrity

climbing the stairs

and the earth like Bethsheba

                  bathing

daffodil

dandelion

and the barn owl the redtailed hawk

the indigenous

the migratory, the atelier

splattered with genius

great brushes of sunlight gilding

the primary colors

this then for you, my beloved

this morning song

how subtle the music a tree makes

sunlight picking out a tune

loons coming back home again

*

the redtailed hawk

the indigenous

species of us in us

fresh growth at the fingertips green

loons coming back home again

to cove & island &

smallmouthed bass canoes water skiing

                           blueberry

The cherry tree knows without saying

that’s where the action is

the performance of green & gold

mold-life bursting at the fingertips of

creation, & startles us still

adapted to winter.  Sweaters subside.

         Dashes of sunlight punctuating the

         lyrics—you know

*

The cherry tree knows without saying

much more than its

lines, what the bluejay

knows.  Trees have new

leaves selah

and the dandelion

great fields of clover

ubiquitous the bee

The cherry tree knows without saying.

What words it attracts—

the collaboration of sunlight

running water the friendship

of soil—what harmony—

listen—the band tuning up

*

blueberry

barrens where black bear have

partied before their long hiatus burst

into blossom.  The ‘becoming-berry’

         cantata playing

The cherry tree knows without saying

gallantly proclaims here am I here are

we and a squirrel scampers on

branches newly shoveled clear of

                           snow, the

lyrics—you know

you heard the melody before you

                  emerged

into this world we share with

the redtailed hawk.

You knew the womb of things

then, the nest of bone &

blood, the den & mycelia of things

and then sunlight with its scalpel

& brush and a breeze ruffling new

leaves selah