The soul fills the body,
as God fills the world.
The soul bears the body,
as God bears the world.
The soul outlasts the body,
as God outlasts the world.
The soul is one in the body,
as God is One in the world.
The soul sees and is not seen,
as God is seen and is not seen.
The sould is pure in the body,
as God is pure in the world.
Birds for leaves, and leaves for birds.
The tawny yellow mulberry leaves
are always goldfinches tumbling
across the lawn like extreme elation.
The last of the maroon crabapple
ovates are song sparrows that tremble
all at once. And today, just when I
could not stand myself any longer,
a group of field sparrows, that were
actually field sparrows, flew up into
the bare branches of the hackberry
and I almost collapsed: leaves
reattaching themselves to the tree
like a strong spell for reversal. What
else did I expect? What good
is accuracy amidst the perpetual
scattering that unspools the world.