I want something from this air.
This night air.
This day air.
This clear, sweet, dewy refreshment air.
I want it to be more, more than it is!
More than a scent, more than a sense!
Experience! Joy! Power!
Fill my lungs, O sky, with a jubilant levity, an effervescent piety!
I drink you in, in and in and more and more,
it is nothing more than it can be, nothing more than it will be,
and I am sated only with longing.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Silhouette hay rolls along the field,
Night drive by shoots down past.
Looking left, a sense
with no words,
no tapestry I can weave,
no tale I can spin,
no thing I can really create;
My words are held together:
with chewing gum and sticky tack,
band-aids, too.
wobbling, wavering, worthless!
O that I could paint this sky,
so warm and wet,
fuzzy stars blinking sheepish through dim lids
There was amazing fog this one morning in March 
The setting sun really illuminated these fresh white blossoms 
I found this fungus growing on an ancient fossil rock face while hiking in central Texas 
Here's a shot of some spring blossoms right outside of the Meadows Building 
