Although I don’t like to be tied down by a word
one of my names is biophilia
I am a shape shifter who can disappear
into the background
cloaked in green veils within a forest
I can blend in
my footfalls so quiet no creature will notice me
I can watch a turtle basking in the sun
and the turtle will not see me
I can breathe with the turtle
feel that sun melting my own skin
till I become liquid
and dive into the pond
to swim like a fish or an eel
my eyes mesmerized
by waving fronds of underwater plants
my vision strong enough to reveal
plankton and microscopic creatures
I can twist and twirl
serpentine and supple
flexible and fluid
when I crawl out onto the shore
I reform into a transparent being
barely visible against any background
sycamore or cherry tree or briar bush
my hearing stronger than even an owl
I hear worms wriggling beneath the earth
mycelium sending electric signals between trees
the little hum coming from the fruiting body
of a mushroom reaching up from below
to burst forth at the next rainstorm
and the birdsong, oh the birdsong
especially in spring
trills and whistles
chirps and croaks
enter my ears
whirl their way around the curves there
travel through all the veins and arteries
in every part of my body
to my heart
where these sounds echo within each chamber
amplifying my love the world
—
Jac-Lynn Stark was born in the Bronx and currently lives on the North Shore of Boston where she enjoys pondering life either from near the ocean or in the woods. She has an M.A. in English from Louisiana State University and an M.Ed. from the Harvard Graduate School of Education. She recently retired from 14 years of teaching English at Bunker Hill Community College in Boston. Her work has been published in Writing by Heart: A Poetry Path to Healing and Self-Discovery, Nimrod International Journal, American Graveyard, calls to end gun violence (an anthology from Read or Green Books), Muddy River Poetry Review, Global Poemic, and others.
