A meditation on this
No rumble. No wind. No ripples.
Now it is official:
The circle is only as wide
As my antenna.
Still I have this trouble
Conceiving it as greater—
Watching a baby's smile
Over fame that changes the world.
What recognition of myself
Is not more needed by the one?
What other gift is not a gift
Returned?
What else can we give
Except our stillness?
How else can we prove
That we are real?
