He loved to ask his mother questions. It was the pleasantest thing for him to ask a question and then to hear what answer his mother would give. Bambi was never surprised that question after question should come into his mind continually and without effort.
Sometimes he felt very sure that his mother was not giving him a complete answer, was intentionally not telling him all she knew. For then there would remain in him such a lively curiosity, such suspicion, mysteriously and joyously flashing through him, such anticipation, that he would become anxious and happy at the same time, and grow silent. ~Felix Salten from Bambi
Of all the beasts that God allows In England’s green and pleasant land, I most of all dislike the Cows: Their ways I do not understand. It puzzles me why they should stare At me, who am so innocent; Their stupid gaze is hard to bear —
To country people Cows are mild, And flee from any stick they throw; But I’m a timid town bred child, And all the cattle seem to know. ~from “Cows” by T.S. Eliot, published long after his death
Raised with cows
outside my back door,
I sat dreamily
on their bony backs
while dad milked,
filling the metal pail
as barn cats circled and purred.
The perfected stare of the cow;
their unblinking interest
in the absurdity
of people and
what we do.
into the deep pool
of their brown eyes
by their curious gaze
and why they should care
“Many solemn nights Blond moon, we stand and marvel… Sleeping our noons away” ― Teitoku (Japanese Haiku)
May I never lose my wonder at the universe suspended above my head, whether it is vast galaxies spreading like a canopy, a golden blond moon or photos beamed back from the surface of Mars from the rover Curiosity.
May I marvel at what is beyond my capacity to understand and my capability to see with my own eyes.
May I never snooze oblivious, unaware of the privilege that is being here, if only a little while.