Is not a month
It is a time without definition
A time to pause and reflect
Upon the seasons grown full blown
Against the backdrop of our lives.
It is the laughter of children
Splashing in the water
Brown skin and bright eyes
Gathering the delight of discovery
The wonder of what is
And can be.
July is the softness of the sunshine
Playing with fanciful clouds
Backlighting a tremulous aspen
Bringing sparkles to the pine boughs
In the perfection
Of blue sky.
It is puffs rising from our hiking boots
On a dusty stretch of trail
Testing our mettle
On a difficult climb
Step by step
Until we reach our goal.
July is meadows set in stone valleys
With gardens no man could tend
Filled with worlds of newborn creatures
Learning the gift of life and joy
In the unrestrained
Song of a bird.
It is a high mountain pass
With wilderness stretching
Range upon range of towering peaks
Caught for a few precious moments
In a delicate alpine flower
Clinging to the rocks for its life.
It is waterfalls cascading
Down tumbled granite cliffs
Into sparkling indigo lakes
That some ancient giant has
Carved to make us ponder
What beauty truly is.
July is a time together
For friendship and love to grow strong
For creating happy memories
For bear tales and mosquito yarns
And time-honored stories
Of more youthful days recalled
It is absorbing Earth’s strength
And fragile gentleness
In moments of awe and wonder
Discovering our place in the universe
July is not a month
It is the reawakening of the senses
A time of discovering ourselves
And the eternity that lies beyond us
July is the nectar of our being
The very essence of life itself.