When a wild bird, a dove, a mourning dove
Flew from a tree and plucked a seed from my fingers,
I knew at last I had achieved something long sought:
A oneness with earth, plant, animal, cloud, water,
Fowls of the air, denizens of the deep,
The mist at morning, the sun at setting,
Wind song, hail pelt, thunder clap—
An invitation to the eternal,
The great meadow of the hereafter.
Peace.
Forever.