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,

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.

All winter the water has crashed over the cold the cold sand. Now it breaks over the thin branch of your body.

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…

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your kn… for a hundred miles through the de… You only have to let the soft anim… love what it loves.

Have you ever seen anything in your life more wonderful than the way the sun,

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

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

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…

From a single grain they have mult… When you look in the eyes of one you have seen them all. At the edges of highways they pick at limp things.

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

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

Understand, I am always trying to… what the soul is, and where hidden, and what shape and so, last week,

In winter all the singing is in the tops of the trees where the wind-bird with its white eyes

At Blackwater Pond the tossed wat… after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls…