Prairie sweep seems endless here,
the land goes on beyond the sky, flat,
even dreary, perhaps nothing at all
to see or know. Still, pause, come near.
Look –
while prairie plants shift and wave to the horizon,
coneflowers ignite green gold grasses,
a bobolink perches high on a bluestem stalk,
a tiny kestrel circles dives soars disappears.
Closer –
seven bee species buffet on purple aster,
monarchs float and settle, wings folding
and opening into sparked orange,
tiny grasshoppers leap from your feet
and the air bustles buzzes sings shimmers,
heat and sound and life moving, moving.
Ancient black rocks waterfall to white,
to a sandstone beach where snakes curl and sun,
pocket gophers leave mounds of soft dirt
above winding burrows where badgers dig,
and hardy native plant roots tangle down, down
into the welcoming earth.
Now bees startled by nightfall
sleep butt out inside flowers,
dew-damp grasses crackle and whirr,
hard milkweed pods burst to feathery seeds
like birds singing into the wind,
all prairie creatures seeking ways
to overwinter underground
through deepest dark and wait, and wait.
Wait –
when spring sun comes they will hatch, seed,
burst, grow, feed, bloom, move, breed, spread,
fill earth and air and sky and your senses
until the prairie pulses again with color and sound
and everything around you – even you –
remarkably alive.
Photo courtesy of Susan Jaret McKinstry.