the summer day
who made the world?
who made the swan and the black bear?
who made the grasshopper?
this grasshopper, I mean the one who has flung herself
out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth
instead of up and down
who is gazing around with her enormous
and complicated eyes
now she lifts her pale forearms
and thoroughly washes her face
now she snaps her wings open and floats away
I don't know what prayer is
I do know how to pay attention
how to fall down onto the grass
how to kneel down in the grass
how to be idle and blessed
how to stroll through the fields
which is what I have been doing all day
tell me what else should I have done?
doesn't everything die at last and too soon?
tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your precious life?