Thursday, December 4, 2014

Mary Oliver - Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
that more or less kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen, to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional, the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant - but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab, the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

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