

for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;
and for everything which is natural
which is infinite
which is
yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;
this is the birthday of life
and love
and wings:
and of
the gay, great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting
touching
hearing
seeing breathing
any-lifted from the
no of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake
and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
-e.e. cummings

1 comment:
why must, me hard read
poems that be, words that been
m.r. cummings wrote
i can't in ways pretend
Post a Comment