On a morning run.

A little wren is chuckling. Listen --
God is laughing to himself, ready
to tell a joke -- oh, this one's funny!
The beech trees are rattling, chortling,
sniggering, whispering the punch line
from tree to tree. Their laughing leaves
cast silver shadows on the lawn of clover.
The air itself is sweeter, cool and merry.
Delicious mirth! Just wait! Soon you will hear it --
Darkling and jocund clouds roll over,
purpled with the pun of it. Listen!
God's laugh is loud. He's cracking jokes.
His world prepares, tickled and grinning,
for the rain.