Li-Young Lee

This seems to me like a love poem–the love of being in this world. And so rare to see the word heart used without sentimentality.

One Heart

Look at the birds. Even flying
is born

out of nothing. The first sky
is inside you, open

at either end of day.
The work of wings
was always freedom, fastening
one heart to every falling thing.

Li-Young Lee from Book of My Nights,