Once I dreamed of summer

Once I dreamed of summer as the spirit of a wild animal, a fox or deer moving across a ridge. O! The sensation of summer as a being, a creature like a storm awakening everything, arousing night. And how she moved in such a way that I sensed her everywhere as she vanished back into the seed of each moment. If I put my hand on the evening grass or looked at the footprint of a constellation, it’s as if she had just been there visiting, carrying water to a field of crickets talking to the moon. And I heard the sound of her garment moving across maple leaves as she strolled across the lawn of the synagogue.