O sweet spontaneous

O sweet spontaneous 
earth how often have 
the doting 
 
 
      fingers of 
prurient philosophies pinched 
and poked 
 
 
thee 
has the naughty thumb 
of science prodded 
thy 
 

      beauty       how 
often have religions taken 
thee upon their scraggy 
knees squeezing and 
 
 
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive 
gods 
      but 
true 
 
 
to the incomparable 
couch of death thy 
rhythmic 
lover 
 
 
      thou answerest 
 
 
them only with 
 
 
      spring
       
-- e.e. cummings

2:52:45 PM  comment []