If we might be patient enough
to wait, to watch,
Nature will reveal herself
in soft sighs, sensual moves,
gentle touches, rainbows.
Slowly slides down her Autumn dress,
softly she sings to each arriving bird.
Her slow lap dance with the world.
A choral fest in our Mothers voices,
shore, sea, surf,
forest, flower, fern,
wind, water, wings.
Two ghost crabs in a strobe light
mating ritual.
An old Golden, splashing, chasing a
soggy tennis ball into the waves,
unabashed, squats to pee on the
foam draped shore, barks then
runs for more.
How not to love, to protect
Her in all her moods and finery.
If only we might wait, watch,
see.