To breathe through the poem

To breathe through the poem
The trees and

The hours of a resplendent
Fear that tocks

The gazelle and chimes the
Blueness of sky

To read through my eyes
What transpired

On the page with the ink
Bending spacetime.

A worm tells summer better than the clock,
The slug’s a living calendar of days;
What shall it tell me if a timeless insect
Says the world wears away? – Dylan Thomas, from “Here in This Spring” – Collected Poems