The new work of art does not consist of
making a living or producing an objet d'art or in self-therapy, but in finding a new soul.
The new era of spiritual creativity...and soul-making.
What a wild family! Fox and giraffe and wart hog, of course. But these also: bodies like tiny strings, bodies like blades and blossoms! Cord grass, Christmas fern, soldier moss! And here comes grasshopper, all toes and knees and eyes, over the little mountains of dust.
When I see the black cricket in the woodpile, in autumn, I don't frighten her. And when I see the moss grazing upon the rock, I touch her tenderly,
sweet cousin.
~ Mary Oliver, "Moss" in NEW AND SELECTED POEMS, VOLUME TWO