Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or hills,
or the rumpled seas,
and is gone-
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in mid summer,
at its perfect imperial distance-
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love-
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there
empty-handed-
or have you too
turned from this world-
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
