The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
Surface in progress above! I think I need to join gardener's anonymous. No time for anything but the great outdoors which is wholly appropriate in this northern clime! Been working on a Japanese (style) garden out front and scrubbing the very dirty cedar siding with citra-solv. Pictures at some point I'm sure.
But encouraging you to embrace the deliciousness of summer today and onward. Eat strawberries, light an evening candle, eat your dinner outside.
And here is another sign of summer trotting around the woods, small spotted fawns, filled with curiousity about life.