Leaves of grass

I have said that the soul is not more than  the body.

And I have said that the body is not more than  the soul,

And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one’s-self is,

And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral, dressed in his shroud,

And I or you pocketless of dime may purchase the pick of the earth,

And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times,

And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero,

And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe,

And any man or woman shall stand cool and supercilious before a million universes.

And I call to mankind, Be not curious about God.

For I who am curious about each am not curious about God,

No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and about death.

       

Why  should I wish to see God better than this day?

I see something of God in each hour of twenty-four, and each moment then

          

In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass;

I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God’s name,

And I leave them where they are, for I know that others will punctually come forever and ever.

Walt Whitman