O sweet spontaneous
  earth how often have
  the
  doting

                   fingers of
  prurient philosophers pinched
  and
  poked

   thee
  ,has the naughty thumb
  of science prodded
  thy

           beauty     how
  often have religions taken
  thee upon their scraggy knees
  squeezing and

  buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
  gods
            (but
  true

  to the incomparable
  couch of death thy
  rhythmic
  lover

                 thou answerest


  them only with

                                 spring)

I am a child  
of wonder again and 
rain tells me to watch 
for snails and slugs. 

I gather dirt, sand, and sticks 
for the terrarium 
where I make a safe home 
away from footsteps, fast cars, and ditch water.

I don’t want them to die  
so I make them  
a space for living. 

I ask my ma to buy lettuce 
because in the book I got from the library 
I learned they will eat lettuce.

I am  
greedy to learn  
what keeps everything alive.

Their spiral shapes leave shiny trails behind. 
I imagine I am a snail leaving  
magic everywhere I go.