Sometimes, when I stop to look, the beauty
that surrounds me is almost more I can bear.
Take, for example, these wild asters,
strewn in such abundance at the edges
of the field that their very numbers
make them seem commonplace.
And yet, what subtle hues their tiny petals wear;
how ornate their decorated centers,
how perfect the choreography of their opening,
one by one by one, until the entire pathway
sings with their delicate song.
Oh, again I say, please, let me never
take such gifts for granted.