for the heron

I see it in the Great Blue Heron stepping through the shallows

and in the Cardinal that perched on my bird feeder today. I see it in the lonely otter floating along the shore and in the fox carrying her pups through the trees.

In the eagles, the fawns, the pheasants, and the fishers. I see it.

In the sunset gilding the eastern hillside each day.

I see it in the water, calm and soft, merciless and raging.

I saw it in the full moon. Beckoning.

I see it in every star, winking into existence just for me. Constellations calling out.

I hear it in the birds' songs, and in each drop of rain that falls upon my roof.

I feel it in a warm, safe bed. Under my feet in the green grass.

I smell that green grass, or lilacs blooming bright, and it's there.

And in the smooth bite of cold coffee on my tongue, I taste it.

You've seen it too. Heard, felt, smelled, tasted. I hope you take those moments and keep them somewhere safe like I do.

Some days, they're what holds it together.

What holds me together.

In me, in the jade of my eyes and the softness of my body, in my big nose and in my scarred knees. It is always there.

Whatever it is that you call it.

Life. The Universe. God. Science.

Take your pick.

In my gratefulness, in my appreciation, I see it. I hear it. I feel it. I smell it. I taste it.

I will never get enough.