The Sun Beyond the Clouds

There is infinite wisdom
for the fools who believe
it can be theirs. And perhaps
that sentence counts me

among the fools in thinking
I can advise. What do we
know that is not a small
part of something small?

So I went in search of
small things early this morning,
thinking the grand impossible.
I have returned – sure I saw

a jack rabbit, sure the pace
of its heart quickened
as did mine. And I have
come away from its infectious

flurry, knowing it was the grass,
the brush, the beginning rain
and the sun beyond the clouds.
I tried to think it small. But could
only count myself a fool.

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