TheBanyanTree: Inside me now.

[Julie Anna Teague]

Welcome in this day.
Usher it in with great gratitude.
Praise the new pink sun from a kayak,
on a chill morning on a foggy-warm lake.
Share a holy communion of coffee, yogurt, granola,
and blueberries picked in the heat and bugs of July.

"Welcome, all you there in the low mist,"
we whisper to the Great Blue Herons,
we whisper to God and silver-green crappie breaking the surface for nymphs,
we whisper to each other so as not to break the silence
of the unrippled lake,
of the ghost-white skeletons of sycamores,
of the kayaks moving silently through the water,
of the oars slicing silently through the water.

"Welcome sun,"
now over the roll of hills on the Eastern edge,
now lighting up the tip tops of the sugar maples,
now the whole Western slope of fire-colored trees
and painting a double world--
me, kayak, heron, maple, crack of limestone--above and below.

"Remember this," I thought, as I snap pictures,
and a day later I look hard through the gray photo fog,
try to distinguish heron, water, husband, kayak.
Where am I in this picture?
Where is the ear of God in this picture?
Where is the silent, flapping Great Blue Heron?
Where is the perfect quiet, the warmth of coffee, the firey trees, the bliss?
Inside me now.  We are all one.

Julie


















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