What goes on in the pungent,
herbal, marinated mood
of a summer solstice?
Conditions rendered just right,
for a pot belly heart
of its speciality.
The senses transcend a particular space and time.
Grass and leaves take on a sheen
slipping on daily twin colors
bright to brightest,
for the musical opus in mellow,
malachite green begins.
A reading from the trees
some kind of music is transpiring backstage.
Tickling at the branches their receptive side
Marching onward to a grand scale of heated
The leaves know of it well.
The katydids are whistling up a serenade.
And, even down below, stirring to the other side of earth
the cricket charm carries on, too;
immersed in the artfulness of the season.
of nature's aura with her open agenda,
perks up the life of an intuitive squirrel
in his habitable home,
in the patent sanctum of her shadows.
As we get lost sometimes
in our own confusion of mixed signals.
A stroll in the woods their directive rings proud
in the music nature bestows.
The clearness in a basic need is felt,
a melody to soothe a wayward heart.
To really commune with all levels of one purpose
in that alone,
we can all relate past our organic system.
To a chord in insect major
the lawn a cushioned seat
for them all.
The epoch is there our musky mentor.
Pick one of a mutable value
in a forest of such insight and savor.
When going through our individual contrasts
we face as humans,
becoming whole again with the spirit of it all.
The Hootie Owl confirms and seals
the captured moment, if there.
A sentinel with a message
who really listen tastefully,
in all of this transitory life.