I am surrounded by green.
Every day, summer
fills me with the vibrancy
of leaves on uncounted trees,
abundant grass, unknowable.

Even milkweed and weedy cousins
contribute to this monolith of color.
Summer's voice sings in unison.
Any alien from afar could see this
familiarity, so close, so encompassing,
hear the vivid chords of survival.

I am also alien — looking out
a window, walking in the yard,
in pastures, in woods —
swimming in a sea too green
to evade, too deep to fathom.

I will surface as dark falls,
night sky covering the green
panorama, obscure until morning
when the symphony will return,
the curtain will rise
and the God of all living things

will penetrate my soul,
subdue my senses, and I
will again long for grace
to fulfill all longing, that green
that covers everything.


From Come Before Winter (Turning Plow Press, 2023).
Used here with permission.