Every Day
   I see or hear
       something
            that more or less

kills me
    with delight,
        that leaves me
            like a needle

in the haystack
    of light.
        It is what I was born for--
            to look, to listen,

to lose myself
    inside this soft world --
        to instruct myself
            over and over

in joy,
    and acclamation.
        Nor am I talking
            about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
    the very extravagant --
        but of the ordinary,
            the common, the very drab

the daily presentations.
    Oh, good scholar,
        I say to myself,
            how can you help

but grow wise
    with such teachings
        as these -- 
            the untrimmable light

of the world,
    the ocean's shine,
        the prayers that are made
​            out of grass?