For My Niece At Seven Months

I thought for you, the other day,
a desire not grand,
neither lucrative,
nor now much sought.
It rose winsomely in my mind unannounced
as I walked my way to study,
close by the university,
in a street sun-glinting and elm-kept,
air cheek-stingingly autumn crisp,
that I would wish for you
a due and deeply derived reverence
for the great simplicities
of leaf and bone and water,
as there I saw a sparrow,
full-bodied, earnest, well-tailored,
hop across the footpath
in reach of my feet.
He nonchalant yet watchful,
I paused and deferential.
For you, wakening one,
I wish similar fancies:
lifelong, untiring delight
in such minute acclamations.