He wanted to find a proof
of the fullness of life,
so he looked at the light
that left signs of itself
in the garden and on the stirring grass.
He looked at the loops
the birds made in the bright air,
at the free fall of happiness
on swelling lawns and parks,
at the pride this powerful earth
seems to show in the spring.
Then he looked at his unsophisticated hands,
at his senior-citizen shoes as they shone
in the light the morning made,
at a few small stones in the garden,
at one green grass blade
bending with the blissfulness
grass often shows.