Feast of Saint Brigid

Well, happy groundhog day. I guess I am reading enough blogs now that I picked up on this. In honor of the Feast of Saint Brigid, today is the third blogger's Silent Poetry Reading. I like the idea, so here is my poem(s).

What is this?

I walk out
and look up at the sky.
Billions of points light up the night.
Even though there is no moon
or sun in the sky,
I can see my shadow on the ground.
The points seem
like paint splattered on a wall,
but I can see patterns.
The patterns are my own:
a five pointed star among the stars,
a smiling face,
a glass of water,
a dog,
my mom,
my dad.
The patterns appear and are gone
as soon as I name them.
I couldn’t show you
even if you were here,
standing next to me.
Because they are mine.
And you have your own.
Just as secret,
just as private,
just as indescribable.
What is this?

I’m sitting on the grass
underneath a large tree.
I don’t know what kind of tree it is,
and in the large scheme of things,
it doesn’t really matter.
Would the sound of the wind
in the leaves
change
if I could call the tree in English or Latin?
I sit feeling the moisture from the ground
dampen the back of my pants.
But it is slow enough
that even if I sit here for an hour,
you wouldn’t be able to tell.
Unless you get close
enough
to smell.
Because the grass leaves its scent
on my whole body.
I feel the sun on my skin
as the wind stops.
I feel the joy
that its warmth brings.
My eyes are closed as I pretend to nap
so I don’t have to live in this world.
And it works,
I lay undisturbed.
Feeling the wind,
breathing the smell,
and listening to the leaves
dance in the sky.
What is this?

I walk
beside the road.
I’ve passed
two men standing outside,
a couple of bike riders going home
after a day at work or play...
however they spend their time.
My mind wanders as I walk;
she is not confined
to my steps
or my surroundings.
She jumps,
even sets the world record
for furthest distance imagined
in a one-block walk.
Clouds have collected in the sky
while I wasn’t watching
and the air tingles
with the anticipation of rain.
My whole body hopes
that the rain will begin
soon.
I yearn to be caught in the downpour
so that I can
dance
my way home.
What is this?