I am
I am a garden full of flourishing plants bearing fresh fruits and vegetables. Sun light streaming through the trees to bright, stiff green grass. Golden honey bees beating their wings as they visit flowers in the garden. A home wrapped on three sides with a porch, complete with a wooden bench swing. Bins for various kinds of compost, full with fresh organic material. Puppies playing in the yard. Animals grazing in the field near our home.
I am wind. Gently rustling the leaves on the fruit trees. The buzzing of the bees, working together to support the hive. The animals eating straw and drinking water. Children laughing, running through the yard, carefree and joyful.
I am a honeycrisp apple just picked from the tree, tart and sweet. I am the acrid air blowing off the mounds that nature is working to turn into earth once more. I am cherry tomatoes, off the vine, bursting with seeds.
I am the earthy scent of soil and foliage. The sweet tinge of honey. The smell of my child’s hair. The musk of my husband. A strawberry rhubarb pie baking in the oven on a summer day. I am the cleansing emptiness of the wind on my face.
I am the wood grain that graces the swing, covering it in my detailed array of pores and knots. The soft but spiky stems and leaves that bear the food which nourishes. I am cool water from a creek, soothing and healing. The blades of grass crunching softly under steps between the neat garden rows. The sun that warms bare skin and instills a sense of safety no one notices.
I am everything I need to create this reality for myself. The perfection of everything in the world. The giver, the taker. The creator.
I am.
