That there is, here is, anything at all
And, more amazing still, that we are here
To marvel at all creatures, great and small,
And know the world as perilous and dear
Is wondrous, awful and mysterious.
Yet only for a moment will I think
A thought like this, till frivolous
Distractions let the stunning wonder sink.
Why is it that the world becomes mundane,
And the glory of creation dims until
I focus only on our loss and pain,
Oblivious to my former cosmic thrill?
No matter why. My job’s to cultivate
A mind field that can generate this state.