Lying here on the short grass, I am
a bowl for sunlight.
Silence. A bee. The lip of water
over stones. The swish and slap, hollow
under the dock. Down-shore
a man sawing wood.
Christ in the sunshine laughing
through the green translucent wings
of maple seeds. A bird
resting its song on two notes.
-
Flathead Lake, Montana
"Christ plays in ten thousand places" —G. M. Hopkins
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