O SWEET SPONTANEOUS by e.e. cummings

O SWEET SPONTANEOUS by e.e. cummings

O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the doting fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and poked thee , has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy beauty . how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods (but true to the incomparable
couch of death thy rhythmic lover
thou answerest them only with spring)