To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
— William Blake
I go not to the temple
to worship.
Around me,
the trees large and small
are a splendour.
The tall ones
seem to reach the sky.
The broad,to
encompass horizon.
I bow.
Before me,
the flowers plain and small
cast a spell.
A bud unfurls in a gradience
as the petals elongate.
The fragrance spreads.
The bees visit.
I prostrate.
Besides me,
the meadows stretching far.
The greenery enthralls.
Blades of grass thin and sharp
flutter in the sun,
the humility overwhelms.
I pray.
