Tuesday, October 16, 2012


Mindful by Mary Oliver

Every day
I see or hear
that more of 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?