Where do I find the sacred?

In the vast big sky 
the clouds march above 
morphing, growing, stretching 
apart at the seams, 
and somehow able to defy gravity

The butterfly flits; 
the busy bee visits with flowers 
cuddles, coils, an intercourse 
in its own merging

The bird soars high above 
amongst the clouds 
envision and flight 
something I can never grasp as my own

So instead, I can appreciate

We are not all that different: 
the trees with their ever-changing leaves; 
the moon’s predictable phases; 
the ocean waves ebb and flow

Each day I find the sacred 
on the earth and in the sky 
I take it all in, and end it all with a sigh