A mountain is a slow wave
tossed up from the
flowing earth.
And you are a wave
flung out of the earth’s huge heart,
disguised
as a beautiful woman.
Where you are,
weeds splitting asphalt,
birds in a tree,
and the tree
are awake because
you notice them.
You walk
about the world
waking
sleeping things.
That is both your
work and your delight.