Today, the Sun seems
Omnipresent,
Its fervid heat
Diffused in languid drops
That fall onto
My neck
And burn toward
My bones
Just today,
The cicadas
Proclaim the triumph
Of heat
Over all
Who walk,
Fly and crawl
The grass sends up damp
Curtains of chlorophyll,
The leaves bow and sulk
Before their intemperate
Lord
i stay low,
And remember
The deep snows
And the
Driving storms
The weather,
Like all other spiritual forces,
Is not personal,
Is intensely personal,
Is vast and private,
Mysterious
And self-evident
It makes me want to go on
Sweating, drinking,
Lying in the shade
Of the great question
To which the cicada
Sings
The only answer.
--Mr. Gobley
