The god of dirt

came up to me many times and said

so many wise and delectable things, I lay

on the grass listening

to his dog voice,

crow voice,

frog voice: now,

he said, and now,

and never once mentioned forever,

 which has nevertheless always been, like a sharp iron hoof,

at the center of my mind.

Mary Oliver (1935-2019), Dream Work, 1986.