by Mary OliverEvery day
I see or I hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It is 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?
lucy's photos @ mount rainier 5.01.08
3 comments:
Thank you for this. I find little to delight in over the last few days so to be reminded of the natural state of things, the wonders that lie outside the door, is encouraging.
you are most welcome, sue. "the wonders that lie outside the door", yes!
a poem that reminds me very much of seeing life through the wondrous eyes of a child - something that we should never lose. this was beautiful written.
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