I see a small brown bird

Lighting in the broccoli

It is undisturbed by us

Knows some secret of life

We chatter, hoe the field

Unaware of this miracle

I watch with open eyes

From the open field inside

I don't know if I'm myself

Or the bird or the broccoli

My hands are on the hoe

In my heart I'm on my knees

And this, I think to myself,

Is prayer without ceasing

Eric Chisler is a jolly radical, farmer, peasant poet, and student of classics at CSU, Chico.