July in the Meadow

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                  JULY in the MEADOW

Mute thunder of petals unfolding
silent roar of them call
quivering the bees
to come.
Bumblebee, all fur and buzz
soul-mated
to every blossom
I follow her
through a psychedelic green world
Wild Roses, Lupines
Sego Lilies with Sage, Lilies with grasses
All edges dissolve to entanglement
I am
flowers that splash into every pore
& pours to engulf
all senses of me
this vibrant devotion
so all I can do
with a pen
is make list poems
Monarda.  Paintbrush. Yarrow
Joyous bees abounding, surround me
Grasses up to my tits
(Not these tits but where they were 40 years ago
body memory persisting despite all this sag)
Violet haze of Bee Balm
rises like steam beneath floating Swallowtails.
Fire Wheel. Cinque foil. Arnica. Penstemon.
Repeat.
This landbase!
The seemingly endless rains
receding for now
this heat we remember
returning.
Solomon Seal. Lupine. Gentian. Daisies.
Backlit, cottonwood fluff floats
I watch, surrounded by The Blooming
open mouthed as a three year old
silvered sparkles tumble over the flowers
all on a mission far deeper than my own
petals and seeds bump softly
on the softer air
Seeding Salsify. Seeded Pasques.
Hair Bells. Geraniums. Mariposa Lillies.
Kodachrome blue sky watching
beneath the boss of the sun
Golden light-drenched Spruce reaches out
calls to me
but 
this poem
is a love song
to the delirious upheaval
the carnality
the passion
of the Wild Flowers.