There are so many seeds in the tip of each grass stalk,
so many flowers in each head of clover,
so many veins in each leaf on each maple,
and so many hairs on the back of each bee.
Do you hear all the sparrows announcing the bounty
to all of the stones in this one little lake,
to the rumor of owl feathers, muffled and tucked,
and to all of the ants in this mound of red dirt?
And all of these miniature miracles make up
the links in the shimmering, circling chains
adorning this earth, which is one tiny jewel
in a glittering crown that is always expanding—
and so many minutes have passed in my one
little life, and for half of them I was asleep—