Gifts

like the juniper tree in a fairy tale
like dust motes turned into shimmer

like a pomegranate wearing its crown
like the small rough seeds of a fig

like the seven pinon trees I named
and watered by moonlight

like the orange lady he once called me
like the shining leaves of the lemon tree

like hootenanies
like Kumbaya

like being baptized Catholic
and saved by the Salvation Army

like roses wrapped in the cape
of Our Lady of Guadalupe

like the dancing hippos of Fantasia
the first banana split when I was seven

like Jacob running down the platform toward me
holding a bouquet of violets in his hand

like aspens shaking their tambourines
like the night songs of little seeds

like the blessings of prayer flags
blown freely on the wind

like my grandma named Grace
who had an extra thumb

like the woman shape of a pear
and the deep music of a cello

like the blue Buddha of healing
and pale wings of maple trees

like the flying saucer inside a mango
like the silence of stars at sea

like the dream voice waking me to say:
everything that is needed has been given

like last night’s full moon
like lightning bugs and snow angels