In this light, my spirit was through all things and into all creatures, and I recognized God in grass and plants.
Varieties of green on the trees outside the window:
on the sun-side, iridescent, lime green
on the shade side, dark green.
at the top, just a few leaves responding to the
attentions of the light wind
with a coy tilt of their hands.
Look out three dimensions into
a tunnel of trees,
a grassy floor,
mottled lime and lizard green
in the sun’s fickle focus.
Japanese Beetles charge.
Sex crazed from the pungent scent,
they crash into me , away from the dahlias,
on their way to the lure
and sure death by suffocation.
Crusted on a peach pink peace rose,
like two dozen shiny green-brown jewels,
vampires of the summer,
cannibals of the flower flesh.
Into the bag they go,
unable or unwilling to fly back out,
fester among themselves
like a stampeding crowd
in the fire filled nightclub.
I see God in the trees, in the vulnerable roses.
I see God in the Japanese Beetles
whom I lure and trap,
but who keep coming at me
in unwelcome droves.