Sometimes, I’m in the jungle

tripping over vines,

shoving my way through bushes,

looking for a path,

wondering if there is one

and asking with every breath,

where am I?

Other times I’m an eagle

high above the trees

soaring over lakes,

my heart filled with sky,

my eyes searching

for the nourishment I need,

wanting to dive deep

into dark pools.

Sometimes I’m with the stars,

in orbit,

far away,

a point of light,

my voice coming

from this dark universe

we share.

Sometimes, I’m spring,

bursting with green life,

shaking off the winter’s cold,

coming to the light again,

the warm sun,

the earth

flowing through me,

blossoming into words.

Sometimes I’m summer

tasting every flower,

savoring

the sweetness everywhere,

swallowing the air,

cherishing the breeze,

that lets me fly and be here,

a butterfly knowing ecstasy,

my voice

rising from the green silence.

And on autumn days,

filled with red and gold

and ripe aromas,

the chill of dark mornings,

the heat of wood warming

my blood and bones,

knowing soon, the rising sun

will take away the moon,

and glow in me,

giving me another day

of astonishment.

Other days I’m the snow

white against the trees,

the fallen leaves

glistening like a tapestry,

a blanket for the brown and brittle grass,

my mouth swallowing the chilly air,

the taste of winter on my tongue.

my cold words

icicles

dripping in the winter sun.

And yes, the rising

lust when I see a lovely woman

and want what I can’t have

and ache with fantasies of wildness

and romance

while she walks away,

leaving me with this wound

that wants to bleed.

So many times

I wonder if this body I wear,

this mask that is my face,

these eyes a window

opening and closing,

letting in the light

so that I can know I’m here

breathing in my life,

my mouth giving me a voice

to say these words,

my mind

wondering where they come from.