Look, hasn't my body already felt like the body of a flower? - Mary Oliver

I tell you this to break your heart, by which I mean only that it break open and never close again to the rest of the world.

Impossible to believe we need so much
as the world wants us to buy.
I have more clothes, lamps, dishes, paper clips
than I could possibly use before I die. Oh, I would like to live in an empty house,
with vines for walls, and a carpet of grass.
No planks, no plastic, no fiberglass. And I suppose sometime I will.
Old and cold I will lie apart
from all this buying and selling, with only
the beautiful earth in my heart.

I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple — or a green field — a place to enter, and in which to feel.