LISTEN FOR ME

Listen for me just below the surface of 

the ground, below the face of the dirt.

Listen for me among the dry and almost barren trees of autumn as they let go.

I will be softly singing among the mycelia, and all around their fungi and their spores.

I will be the blow and rattle between the browning parched oak trees’ falling leaves.

I won’t be very far away, my fondness for the beauty of nature will keep me close.

I’ll be under every new greening piece of life, pushing itself up out of the soil.

I’ll be on the back of every piece of lice between the feathers of the croaking raven.

On molds, and newts.  In springs, and sand.  Aloft in zephyrs and tornadoes all.

Every quark and quasar will whisper my hope; each star and nebula my poems.

I will not escape beyond the beyond that has riveted my soul with wonder and awe.

I will have nowhere else to go, but everywhere.  Listen for me and look.