Sunday, November 30, 2014

31,November 2014 ,I survived the night

Messenger

"The only way to keep a gift alive is to pass it along."


by Mary Oliver

My work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—

          equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.


Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
          keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,


which is mostly standing still and learning to be
          astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,



which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

          and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

          to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

telling them all, over and over, how it is

          that we live forever.

1 comment:

Dawn Edwards/Felt So Right said...

I love this Mary Oliver poem and the image of the work of your hands and mind, Marjolein. They both touch me deeply. Thank you for sharing such beauty.