All Our Joy is Enough
All we make is enough
Barely to seem
A bee’s din,
A beetle-scheme—
Sleepy stuff
For God to dream:
Begin.
All our joy is enough
At most to fill
A thimble cup
A little wind puff
Can shake, can spill:
Fill it up;
Be still.
All we know is enough;
Though written wide,
Small spider yet
With tangled stride
Will soon be off
The page’s side: