Morning sun rises so casually among the trees,
And later casually sinks behind the western hills.
In between, it is for more than just you and me—
At every level— still warms the soil,
Cracks open heart of every rock,
Does not only go back and forth to rectify mistakes,
Opens something new for future days,
Moves our world to higher states of love.
Every living being is precious,
Even raindrop that falls upon the field—
Humbly dissolves and dies to soften hardened clod.
Within each house there hides vaulted mansion,
Overlooked, unremembered as old songs, but waiting.
Let me stay here, forgotten, for one more day,
Breathing in and out my little words,
Listening for the Word within the world.
Everything we need to hear is spoken,
Casually most times, but still more precious
Than even bread and wine at church if
We kneel and fail to see.
I’d rather worship out in the barn,
Smell the afterbirth, warm and filled with cosmic dust of
Great Mother’s starry eyes, taste warm milk of infinity,
Go to sleep within her arms to drift and dream of peace.