Drop The Veil

Drop the veil of hope and wanting.
Watch the sun pluck harps of frost
fretted between oak leaves.
Are you not surrounded by wise
ancient beings of immense stature:
cedars, stones, Scarlet Elf Cups,
hummingbirds?
You can hear the infinitesimal chime
of stars in sparkling silence.
Call it a moment of grace if you like,
but grace is all there is here,
where things are made of
tinier and tinier miracles.
And really, it's true, love overflows
the rim of a dust mote.
O mind, expect nothing.
Plunge naked into the sacraments
of ordinary time, this season
between epiphanies.
Of course the voice within
goes on muttering "More!"
But a fiercer listening, inside within,
seeps like fresh water from an abandoned well.
One breath bows to another,
and you remember how to stand here
amazed, then how to walk.