Last evening I was thinking about ‘beneath the surface’. Tonight I’ve rested beside the road awhile with a volume of (that great seer-beneath-the-surface-of-things) Mary Oliver’s poems. There’s enough material for a month’s contemplation in her
Song of the Builders
On a summer morning
I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God –a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;
it was moving the grains of the hillsidethis way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hopeit will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe.Mary Oliver
New and Selected Poems, Vol 2, page 92