Summer is finally here
and it feels nice to breathe
in the wild, wind-rustled
brightness of daylight
and earth.

existentially savory
it makes me sick, makes
my heart skip a beat.
O, what fierce illusions we are!
Dancing in the brilliance of
Buddhist Nirvana.

And what fruit of
the earth does the solstice
carry; a diamond star,
or an amber sun,
quiet,
until it falls.