Full Marsh

This earth will grow cold,
a star among stars
and one of the smallest,
a gilded mote on blue velvet—
I mean this, our great earth.
This earth will grow cold one day,
not like a block of ice
or a dead cloud even
but like an empty walnut it will roll along
in pitch-black space . . .
You must grieve for this right now
—you have to feel this sorrow now—
for the world must be loved this much
if you’re going to say “I lived”. . .


from On Living, by Nazim Hikmet


A beautiful morning, with geese floating by in front of the house, an eagle soaring over the water, and even a beaver swimming near the road from from its dam near the head of the marsh.

Quite the contrast from February.