How many springs
How many summers
Or other seasons
Have brought more rapture
Than any before
Or all since?
Even though each
Thrills with
Fulfillment and promise.
Rest ye,
Lie down
In these pastoral pastures
Of evergreen promise
And be still.
Listen to the music
That sings with you
And exceeds your voice
With knowing
Beyond our bewilderment
That there's no end.
Be glad -
Not for Earth, necessarily.
But for the lonely cosmos
At most -
And for you particularly, at least
If ever you breathed breath
And knew
The great question
Hovering in forever,
And promised -
One season
To another
Forever.

Dated 5/26/1983