Awake in a giant night
is where I am
There is a river where my soul,
hungry as a horse drinks beside me
An hour of immense possibility flies by
and I do nothing but sit in the present
which keeps changing moment to moment
How can I tell you my mind is a blanket?
It is an amazing story you won’t believe
and a beautiful land
where something is always doing in the barns
especially in autumn
Sliding down the hayrick!
By March the sun is lingering and the land turns wet
Brooks grow loud
The eddies fill with green scum
Crocuses lift their heads to say hello
Soon it is good to be planting
By then the woods are overflowing
with dogwood, redbud, hickory, red and white oaks,
hazelnut bushes, violets, jacks-in-the-pulpit,
skunk cabbages, pawpaws and May apples
whose names thrill you because you can name them!
There are quail and rabbits too—but I go on too long
Like the animal, I must stop by the water’s edge
to have a drink and think things over
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