|Keywords||Empathy, Human Worth, Nature, Spirituality|
The bud / stands for all things, / even for things that don't flower . . . .
The poet observes that everything flowers from within, if given the chance. Sometimes, however, a being doesn't understand its own loveliness and must be retaught. St. Francis, for example, had to "put his hand on the creased forehead / of the sow . . ." and reveal to her how blessed she was, before she could remember throughout her whole being "the long perfect loveliness of sow."
|Commentary||Kinnell celebrates the essential goodness and beauty of all things. This is a powerful poem for healing.|
|Source||Mortal Acts, Mortal Words|
|Annotated by||Coulehan, Jack|
|Date of Entry||07/11/94|