By W.S. Merwin (1927-2019)

What if I came down now out of these
solid dark clouds that build up against the mountain
day after day with no rain in them
and lived as one blade of grass
in a garden in the south when the clouds part in winter
from the beginning I would be older than all the animals
and to the last I would be simpler
frost would design me and dew would disappear on me
sun would shine through me
I would be green with white roots
feel worms touch my feet as a bounty
have no name and no fear
turn naturally to the light
know how to spend the day and night
climbing out of myself
all my life


  1. Cary Waterman says:

    Thanks for posting this lovely poem!

  2. Alicia Schilder says:

    Ahh— poetry. It makes you slow down. Stop. Take note. Like nothing else does. Beautiful.

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