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

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…

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,

Not quite four a.m., when the rapt… strikes me from sleep, and I rise from the comfortable bed and go to another room, where my books ar… in their neat and colorful rows. H…

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

The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, shoulders, and all the rest

Come with me into the field of sunflowers. Their faces are burnished disks, their dry spines creak like ship masts,

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…

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.

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

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

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

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

The feet of the heron, under those bamboo stems, hold the blue body, the great beak above the shallows