There is, all around us, this country of original fire. You know what I mean. The sky, after all, stops at nothi…

Is the soul solid, like iron? Or is it tender and breakable, lik… the wings of a moth in the beak of… Who has it, and who doesn’t? I keep looking around me.

Needing one, I invented her— the great-great-aunt dark as hicko… called Shining-Leaf, or Drifting… or The-Beauty-of-the-Night. Dear aunt, I’d call into the leav…

My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hum… equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there t… Here the clam deep in the speckled…

One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice—

On a summer morning I sat down on a hillside to think about God – a worthy pastime.

When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the bramb… nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching

She steps into the dark swamp where the long wait ends. The secret slippery package drops to the weeds. She leans her long neck and tongue…

Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who make the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories,

I’d seen their hoofprints in the deep needles and knew they ended the long night under the pines, walking

Last night in the fields I lay down in the darkness to think about death, but instead I fell asleep,

centerYou are standing at the edge… at twilight when something begins to sing, like a waterfall pouring down

In the early curtains of the dusk it flew, a slow galloping this way and that way

Don’t bother me. I’ve just been born. The butterfly’s loping flight carries it through the country of…

Every morning the world is created. Under the orange sticks of the sun