Lonely for Heaven

The lushness of the green
of this season is almost more
than one hungry woman can take.

The joy of all this color nearly overtakes me
and I see pearly auras around trees,
in the red flowers of geraniums,
and at the edges of watery
sanctuaries where swimming
will baptize us--
relieve us of heat that gathers
and makes it impossible to think
beyond the surface of our skin--
it is that close to July.

I am driven mad
by the ways
in which I stroke
paper with the steel tip
of a pen
trying to capture
the way words fly
through my head
like chickadees to a feeder
in the white of winter
when the ground
is completely covered
in snow.

But this green,
this glowing filter of clorophyl
mixed with pure light,
argues reason against intuition,
and gives proof to the mind
that doubts
that God is
so much more
than an idea of bodies
lonely for heaven.