I said I will find what is lowlyand put the roots of my identitydown there:each day I’ll wake upand find the lowly nearby,a handy focus and reminder,a ready measure of my significance,the voice by which I would be heard,the wills, the kinds of selfishnessI couldfreely adopt as my own:but though I have looked everywhere,I can find nothingto give myself to:everything ismagnificent with existence, is insurfeit of glory:nothing is diminished,nothing has been diminished for me:I said what is more lowly than the grass:ah, underneath,a ground-crust of dry-burnt moss:I looked at it closelyand said this can be my habitat: butnestling in Ifoundbelow the brown exteriorgreen mechanisms beyond the intellectawaiting resurrection in rain: so I got upand ran saying there is nothing lowly in the universe:I found a beggar:he had stumps for legs: nobody was payinghim any attention: everybody went on by:I nestled in and found his life:there, love shook his body like a devastation:I saidthough I have looked everywhereI can find nothing lowlyin the universe:I whirled though transfigurations up and down,transfigurations of size and shape and place:at one sudden point came still,stood in wonder:moss, beggar, weed, tick, pine, self, magnificentwith being!
In August I found this butterfly journal at Barnes and Nobles:
It was sitting there on the shelf, just begging to have poetry written in it. Something about it reminded me of a book my mother used to read me when I was a child, The Lion and Blue.
I have been reading a lot more poetry lately, in hope of broadening my horizons and learning new styles and techniques. I decided to combine the two things.
Every time I find a poem I like, I copy it into my butterfly journal. This poem by A.R. Ammons was one of the latest additions to my book and I just had to share it with you.
I hope it inspires much thought…