if when comes a day the sunset does not amaze me:
     or my nose does not sneeze at the breeze on the shores
a wave splashing, I turn my back to, or
         any dog unfed goes by my house without a bone:
or a willow finds no one hearing her cries;
           a sparrow flies to alight on a limb
and I take no mental picture of.
            Or I forget to tend my yellow roses, and they become all thorns.
Or I don't get high when the bee or hummingbird buzzes,
      or when I sleep long and miss,
the mystic mountain as it grows out of darkness
       at sunrise.
**** me quick, if I for a second quit believing that life is meaningful.