Every day
I see or hear
Something
That more or less
kills me
with delight
That leaves me
Like a needle
In a 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 untrimmabke light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
~ Mary Oliver~
(Why I Wake Early)
