What love the Earth has for her creatures, <br />to give us the moon and invite the evening star <br />to ride with her half-way through the heavens— <br />What love to give such voice to coyote <br />that it can imitate the wolf or a human man <br />crying out in agony, or the playful yip of a puppy, <br />and all three together become the operatic song <br />of the evening, to welcome the moon-rider <br />from across the mountains and down over the river, <br />and all the neighborhood dogs on both sides <br />of the river and ridges join in the antiphonal chorus. <br />What love there is when beautiful things die and <br />disappear, and unknown to us still work, gone underground, <br />to bring forth their springtime revolution, that redemptive <br />astonishment we take for granted as the garden’s resurrection. <br />What love the Earth has to allow me, a member <br />of a violent and often hostile species, to walk here <br />every evening, in time to enjoy such company, <br />that wild and innocent assembly of natural beings <br />who do not fret about evolution or the nature of God, <br />and remain intimately proof of everything thus miraculous and real. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />This poem is from the book Diamonds in a Stony Field <br />by Alla Renée Bozarth, copyright 2011. All rights reserved.<br /><br />Alla Renee Bozarth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/earthlove/
