Giant Delights

Why must a field of cottontails so please,
Each stalk a thread in holy tapestry,
Whose many parts of one part in the breeze,
Much too fair for any monastery?

They are not ordered like the city square,
Architect’s design to divine pretend,
Nor as the fresh-cut poodle’s golden hair,
The groomer’s hand with perfection contend.

But sweet and soft as only nature may,
From raindrops a chaotic melody,
Gently remind her guests what note they play,
In His ancient and perfect symphony.

Such a field to stoop the passing giant,
Who cares for naught but worldly appetites,
And at once to feel himself compliant,
Doubting giant fears and giant delights.

Why must a field of cottontails so please,
Whose many parts of one part in the breeze?

(2025)