Love and Wildfire

Love and Wildfire
 8/24

Tonight the sun is setting red
while I am saving seeds.

Outside, fledgling bluebirds hum and chirp

and on the table is a basket of 

wild mushrooms singing also,
of the forest and of deep primordial stirrings.

The mustard sky

obscured in wildfire haze
and all the great apocalyptic
billows, marginal horizons

Still cannot keep these songs in futile silence:
Chirring crickets, calling elk,

and lastly the applause of aspen leaves

to close the night down.

In my hands, the seeds are lyrical 

and planning.
Future: mullein.
Future: borage.
Future: yarrow.
Future fields of flowers,

skies as clear and blue
as if it all came perfect round.

All the birds 

as evening waxes shady
flying, calling,

never falling silent.