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" â€”G. M. Hopkins