Thursday, June 10, 2010

Every day


.
.
Every day
I see or hear
something
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?
.
~ Mary Oliver
(Why I Wake Early)

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