It’s a duck
Riding on the waves
A hundred feet beyond the surf.
It can rest while the Atlantic heaves
Because it rests in the Atlantic.
Probably it doesn’t know
How large the ocean is.
And neither do you.
But what does it do, I ask you?
It sits down in it.
It rests in the immediate
As though it were infinity
That’s spirituality
And the little duck has it.
After Donald C. Babcock (1886 – 1986)
