Sentient World

When streaks in the sky decide
To echo the pinks of the meadow,
When lightning flashes its enthusiasm
And thunder grumbles a reply,
When winds and waters and insects
Sing unending three-part chorus,
When slanted rays of sun
Smile attention on cliff faces
That glow with happiness,
Either we’ve projected our sentience
Onto the natural world
Or its sentience is teaching us
Our own smallness—
How tiny the visible spectrum is
And the range of our ears,
How amplified true magic must be
Compared to the speck we sense.