in august

You can see right through me

Gliding planes

I wish you could see the whole vision

The golden reflection of the moon around every object

The black trees outlined by the glow.

Every insect is singing in harmony

Each star is shining, some dim and some brightly

So open and liberated

In the back of an old red truck,

The hum of a sister sleeping

The warmth of these well- knit blankets

Humidity is no stranger, only making things grow

Through every vein and every muscle; I can feel it

Every emotion, every thought

I hear a drum of a heartbeat

Quivering of a lip,

As the moon quietly sneaks back into her pocket in the big open sky.

Always turning always spinning, and we don't feel a thing.

Gravity pulling us down and keeping us stable

We don't really notice until we take a minute to think about the trees, the moon, the stars;

all God's creation.

Our hearts are tightly wound in the vulnerable space, where our minds have room to think,

to feel and to recognize the beauty in front of us -- it's always there.

Always changing.

With the seasons and as things grow.

Physically, mentally and emotionally.

Bringing us closer to the ground, humbling us.

As gravity treats the earth.