I see the clouds, Piled like fresh hay in the sky, Waving good morning to the sun. Beneath this flamboyant canopy, Bees dance, chirp, and buzz, A raucous riot of celebration— I follow their sweet trails, Through the dewy grass, Feeling the hum beneath my palm, The sound of earth coming alive. Nature’s heart is beating. Can you hear it?

• Sylvia Plath