Literary critics always seem to have something to say. But sometimes they should keep quiet. Today all I want to do is share with you some lines from the poem ‘Still’ by the American poet A. R. Ammons:
I said what is more lowly than the grass?
Ah, underneath a brown crust of dried burnt moss
I looked at it closely and said this can be my habitat
but nestling in I found green mechanisms beyond intellect awaiting resurrection and rain
so I got up
And ran, saying ‘There is nothing lowly in the universe’
I found a beggar
He had stumps for legs
nobody was paying him any attention
everybody went on by
I nestled in and found his life
There, love shook his body like a devastation
I said, ‘Though I have looked everywhere, I can find nothing lowly in the universe.’