At the Edge of the Pond

I am an old turtle at the edge of the pond
observing the underwater world.

I am a slow-moving bull elk
sniffing the early spring air.

I am a dryad dancing in shafts of forest light.

I am one of many sheltering in place,
looking out my little sliver of space with worried eyes.
I am weathering the storm 24-7,
watching the light and dark shows
from the foothills of granite mountains.

I see Guernica-like interconnected shapes
in the dark tapestry of my mind
and listen to the excited utterances
of the monkey within.