The only reason I'm so moved seeing clouds and hills mingle Is because the intimacy of the world otherwise stays hidden. Even though I know it's there In animals calling, And in the cave overflowing. And in the food I've built on, And in the song of the bat, And in rotting bodies unfolding I am touched each time I can see hand-holding. Mist married to branches married to me with my eyes Stopping my work for a moment to say "What a generous place is unveiling here!" And "Thank you. We have enough."