There Is a Force
I came upon him on a clump of clover,
A fat brown grasshopper moving not at all.
Does he know, I puzzled, his season is over?
Does he know it's turning to fall?
I think he chose this spot for his last sleep
Not knowing that was what it was about.
He had grasshopper biology to keep
So he hopped here 'ere his legs gave out.
Something mystical drives each living thing—
Fish and fowl, ants and bees, moths to a flame.
It is a force as whole and endless as a ring,
And in season after season it holds domain.
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