The startling reality of things is my discovery every single day. Every thing is what it is, and it's hard to explain ...

Sometime I start looking at a stone.
I don't start thinking,
Does it have feeling ?
I don't fuss about calling it my sister.
But I get pleasure out of its being a stone,
Enjoying it because it feels nothing,
Enjoying it because it's not at all related to me.

Occasionally I hear the wind blow,
And I find just hearing the wind blow---
Makes it worth having been born.