Yesterday, I visited a woman
who was too busy dying to talk to me.
Beside her bed was a book of poetry.
I riffed the pages' edge to find a place
where the book opened easily,
and so I came upon this poem,
which spoke most clearly:
i thank You God for most this amazing day
By e e cummings
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginably You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)