No one grumbles among the oyster clans,
And lobsters play their bone guitars all summer.
Only we, with our opposable thumbs, want
Heaven to be, and God to come, again.
There is no end to our grumbling; we want
Comfortable earth and sumptuous Heaven.
But the heron standing on one leg in the bog
Drinks his dark rum all day, and is content.
"Wanting Sumptuous Heavens" by Robert Bly. Text as published in The New Yorker (11/05/07).
Art credit: Video, with Robert Bly's reading of the poem, created for MotionPoems by Angella Kassube.