I'm Not Here

I'm not here
to give you one of those rants
about how life is perfect and nature is beautiful,
how
the sound of silence in a forest
can be the most beautiful thing you ever hear,
or how
the air you breath beside a the ocean
flows straight through the lining
of your lungs
and into your soul.

I'm not here
to tell you that
a moment alone with redwoods
is like being a child again
among adults,
as if their presence alone
is all the security you need from harm's way.

I'm not here
to describe at your leisure
the drowning sounds of a waterfall
on a trail beaten only by deer
and the sound of water in your ears,
or how that moment
is the same as losing yourself
and finding yourself.

I'm not here
to teach you
how to enjoy a rainy day,
whether it's opening your arms
in a thunderstorm to embrace
the millions of water-kisses
on your body,
or wading warmly in your thoughts
to the background music
of nature's shushing,
quieting you and letting you love
yourself by yourself.

I'm not here.
I am there,
and I'm asking you to join me.