I AM the Bougainvillea, and the Butterfly

Still shivering, the cuffs of my sweater wet from impromptu gardening in the rain this evening just before dusk.

Teeth chattering, yet almost too busy reflecting upon the sensualities of nature to pay much mind to getting warmed up. There are some things that are more appealing than climbing into a warm old robe and being comfortable.

Yesterday, too hot, today, too cold and it’s wet, I had thought I lived in Washington, but surely not..these extremes too radical.

The cold and wet leftover from my excursion in the dirt and rain, as I was armed with water hose (myself the target apparently) thrills me enough to revel in the cold just now, with dirt still under my fingernails. [I think of Alan Watts in Cloud Hidden Whereabouts Unknown saying how the hippies had dirt underneath their fingernails. The connotation of that so filling, it’s a wonder all that conjures up..]

Yes, I have dirt under my fingernails and all that is conjured up in that phrase, I AM. I Am light at heart; and playful, I am experimental, and delightful, I am the explorer, the leader, and the follower I lead, the gifted, and gift as well.

I am the entrepreneur, and I am the mystic, the creator, and the created.. I AM.

I am the bougainvillea, and the butterfly , the pink rhododendron, and pink azalea, too. I am the dirt I dig, as I dig the dirt.

The smell of earth has caught me, I remember it’s first early scent as I sat upon the grass as a little baby girl so close to earth, she was one of my best friends, and still…..is.

The grasses and colors of flowers, and smells of scents that traveled by my nose, puppy smells, and tiny palms sweaty with dirt in the creases. I had mud pies in my stars; still in my stars, mud pies in my dreams, waking and sleeping.

Old hands now as I stop to look, as the cold wears off and I forget I AM, this eternal child for a moment, and remember time has a place in my dream, and age, too, along with age spots from too much sunshine. Surely that isn’t possible; too much sunshine, or too much fog, too much play or imagination?

I Am the remember-er; and maker of stardust, the molten core of earth and the waves upon the shore. I Am the cosmos, and laughter. I Am the divine, bougainvillea, and the butterfly.