I've been meaning and meaning to post something about blossoms here, but my camera and I are still negotiating the easiest way to get pictures from it to me, so I'm stalled. In the meantime, here's a lovely little one by Mary Oliver which is in regards to summer, not spring, but nevertheless reflects how I feel lately, and how I want to feel. Hat tip to Poetry 180.
The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
2 comments:
Once I got past the mental image of holding a grasshopper in hand (don't think I could do this), I absolutely loved this poem. Reminds me of what I am learning about being "in the moment--enjoying what is."
I can so easily waste each day doing things i SHOULD do. This is a beautiful reminder of the best parts of living.
Post a Comment