There is a quiet here we can forget,
In the granary of days
Pouring its slow honey.
Through the fast dimensions
We can forget the foot
We have outside the world,
The one that stands
On the outer ridge
Looking down from ultimate vistas.
We can forget the community of grasses
As easily as we forget
The peace of living,
Forget the trees
With their one bright reach
Towards heaven,
Forget the singular ocean
That feeds and swallows.
We can even forget that modest, burning seed,
Wonderful specter!
That wants to know the world,
To touch the copious earth
And sing!
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