In January I howl with wolves
from a black sky
rove among stars
sharp like sparks
from fireworks.
I glaze snow with a pearly
patina.  

When earthworms emerge in spring
I soften like soil
and only those who seek me out
in woods will find violet
and trillium
draped by my beams
like frosted
robes.  

As heat becomes queen
holding court on backs of frogs
on sleek crested heads of birds
I offer relief for strawberry
and sturgeon
as I shimmer in rain
flash with lightning
never pausing
for thunder.  

Then comes autumn when I bless
wheat and corn and kindle
bucks to rush each other.
Beavers build by my light
weaving bracken  
stacking twigs
smudging mud
piling mushroom and fern
for life under a cold sky
astir with my fervid
baying.