Chasing Birds

I don’t know what it is
Maybe how at 7:00 the sun bends over the horizon
Or the smell of dew-drenched dirt that comes with it
Maybe it’s looking at the sky
And not seeing anything
But knowing there is something out there greater than me
Greater than all of us

Or perhaps it’s the melted strawberry ice cream
Sizzling on the hot Texas concrete
It never stood a chance against the baking ground
Burned soles and red undertones surround
Beat faces that resemble stove tops
Dripping like a nimbostratus with a forecast of rain

Or possibly the contrary
Cold wind that stings like fever
Sandpaper skin and shiny eyes
Coal and carrots and sticks stuck in some snow
Slipping on frozen grass and laughing about it
Despite your wet pockets and torn seams

It might be the way bluebonnets blanket fields
Like weeds in season
Or how lightning reaches out
Like a hand from the heavens
It could be the fire in the sky
Or butterfly gardens
Maybe the citrus evergreen ripe with abundance
Or how Phusis can always find a way to restore Herself

I don’t know what it is
But suddenly
I want to wake up to the 7:00 a.m.
I want my belly to ache with the fullness life offers
I want to consume it
All of it
Big mouthfuls that leave my lips sticky and raw
I want to get fat off happiness
And then lose it chasing birds
But most importantly
I want to
live.