I know how the tide feels
When the moon pulls her close
To a land unyielding.
A rocky surface with crevices
Even ocean cannot fill.
I know how the finch feels
Flying against the wind.
Suspended, disarmed
By the very thing that helps him soar-
An impossible, invisible force.
I know how the daylily feels
When the hummingbird sips her nectar.
So quickly he moves on, gives it away
As if it weren’t life-giving-
As if she had not created it through her own body.
I know how the cicada feels
When it waits for dusk to fall,
Eyeing its conductor, anticipating its downbeat.
At the mercy of cosmic movement-
Measuring sound by light
