By: Harmony Lange
The sunshine is a tangible thing,
A palpable thing.
It fills the air around you,
Paints trees,
Wraps you up.
It stirs the smell of dirt from the ground
The most honest smell.
Its warmth dries up the pine needles
creating a carpet
that whispers softly
as you walk, gentle susurrations.
Any sound that comes to you
Must pass first
Through the sunshine-
Birdsong
Chattering squirrels
Murmurs of water not far off.
No wind disturbs
The sunshine here
Where it sits heavy around you
Among the trees.
Leaves are still
Although high above you
Clouds drift gently across the sky.
You watch them
Head tilted back
Mouth slightly agape.
They drift
They continue their way across the sky
They drift.
You bring your gaze back down,
To the highest branches,
Down the trunks-
Though you could leave your head tilted back
Your eyes following the clouds…
But you do this: look around you
At tree trunks
Dirt
A squirrel
Rushing off, always in a hurry
Your feet
Pressed against the needles
Against the dirt
Your legs moving
Each movement
Bringing you through the sunshine
Like swimming.
Each breath taking sunshine
Into your lungs-
Sunshine and dirt and dry pine needles.
Your arms are covered
In a fine layer
Of dusty dirt
Set with tracks from sweat droplets:
This is how the sun
Has painted you
Photo Cred: Chelsea Stellar
Harmony Lange is a professional harpist and amateur poet, a lover of books, and a chronic seeker of happiness. A native of California, she graduated from Westmont College with a bachelor’s degree in Political Science and French, and the hope and determination to find her place in this crazy world. She’s currently pursuing the search in Southwestern Florida, but hopes to move soon to Minnesota. Find more info or contact her at www.harmonylange.com
