I wasn’t planning to be back with a poem today, but this one presented itself to me on Saturday and I couldn’t resist!
Every day I see or I 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 presentation. 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?
I love her focus on the mundane, “the drab.” Her focus on joy and delight.
(As I was typing this, a hummingbird came to the feeder on my window. Delight! Joy! My heart pounded and I froze, not wanting to miss a second.)
Enjoy your Sunday, friends.