And the belief for the moment is in the last poem
I want to read.
And I think the title of it indicates that the belief is
for the moment.
It's called "Final Reflection #14."
I guess this is as close to a credo
as I've ever come, or ever tried to come, in a poem.
"Final Reflection #14."
"I do not know that the bird is not pestered with thought.
I am not sure whether, when the sap starts downward,
the green leaf shudders.
I wonder about the weight of the dues
that the free wind plays, the cow that
chews the damp grass in the pasture,
at what expense the puffing of her udder.
There is so much not to learn, so many sprouts to leave
untouched, to let grow.
Enough to say that the bird moves, and makes its sound,
and is gone.
That the green leaf browns, that the wind, like the weather,
comes and goes.
That milk is, of itself, a gathering of bones.
Let us walk, then, without shoes over the old earth.
Let us feel how, at each falling step, we take root.
How at the lifting of each foot, we become more delicate
than air.
Let us breathe in to live by that which we cannot answer."
Thanks a lot.
[APPLAUSE]