Mindful by Mary Oliver

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 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?

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