Tuesday, August 25, 2015


Mindful
by Mary Oliver
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 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?

2 comments:

Barbara Rogers said...

I do love Mary Oliver, but can't read black on black on your blog.

Jenny Mendes said...

Sorry about that. I'm having problems with copying text and need to change my blog format.... Will try to get that sorted out soon....