Revisiting the Gift

The mesa felt neglected
To the one neglecting it,

As if the gift of being there
In the rocks, trees, and grasses,

Had turned out to be an empty box.
That can’t be right. Then the one

Neglecting the glorious mesa
With desert views in all directions

Realized it had always been the body
That sang in response to the empty,

And now the body was the vacant box.
But wait. The gift may be returned.