On a glorious, cool, springy morning
when birds are implacably a-twitter,
a unique miracle of the moment
swathes my feet with its blessing: dripping dew.
Inside each drop of this great elixir
resides the secret chemistry of life.
To bend your knees and sip from greeny grass
might be the childish, foolish wisdom
that lets me step out of my normal ego
to explore the world as sensual fruit.
Discovery of fruit brings certain loss
because all beauty is also frailty.
On my knees before this humility,
I sip slow, yet to work I must return.