another ee cummings

[ka_ri]

now air is air and thing is thing:no bliss

of heavenly earth beguiles our spirits,whose
miraculously disenchanted eyes

live the magnificent honesty of space.

Mountains are mountains now;skies now are skies-
and such a sharpening freedom lifts our blood
as if whole supreme this complete doubtless

universe we'd(and only we had)made

-yes;or as if our souls,awakened from
summer's green trance,would not adventure soon
a deeper magic:that white sleep wherein
all human curiosity we'll spend
(gladly,as lovers must)immortal and

the courage to recieve time's mightiest dream