A leaf of grass

A leaf of grass

I’ve just “re-discovered” a poem by Walt Whitman that I first came across in an old National Geographic magazine in a B&B in Sepilok, Sabah (Malaysia) before boarding a ferry to the Philippines way back in 1998.

I wrote it out in the journal I kept of my travels, which I’ve just pulled out of a drawer.

It is a beautiful reminder of the miracle of nature.

Actually it is a mere extract of a very long poem which you can find in its entirety here (amongst other sites on the internet).


Song of Myself

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,

And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren,

And the tree-toad is a chef d’oeuvre for the highest,

And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven,

And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,

And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any statue,

And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.


See the beauty in nature.

See the beauty in nature.