What did the poet ask of me?
To see the world in a grain of sand…
I have long lost that ability
But I can watch the toddler on the beach
Discover it for herself

To see heaven in a wildflower…
I don’t know if I ever had that ability
But I can watch Woody tend his garden
And pause to admire the volunteer plant

To hold infinity in the palm of your hand…
Once, in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit
I gazed upon impossibly tiny babies
And thought of that line in Blake’s Augeries

To hold eternity in an hour…
Now, each hour, any hour
I ask no more of this life
Than this hour, this heartbeat