Praise

I praise you because

you are artist and scientist

in one. When I am somewhat

fearful of your power,

your ability to work miracles

with a set-square, I hear

you murmuring to yourself

in a notation Beethoven

dreamed of but never achieved.

You run off your scales of

rain water and sea water, play

the chords of the morning

and evening light, sculpture

with shadow, join together leaf

by leaf, when spring

comes, the stanzas of

an immense poem. You speak

all languages and none,

answering our most complex

prayers with the simplicity

of a flower, confronting

us, when we would domesticate you

to our uses, with the rioting

viruses under our lens.