Wednesday, November 8, 2017

November 8: Perspective, Mary Oliver, "Messenger"

If you haven't noticed, I'm a little neurotic today.  It could be the snowy weather blowing in from Canada.  It could be my class observation this evening.  It could be my exhaustion.  It could be Donald Trump being in China.

Whatever the reason, Saint Marty needs a little Mary Oliver to put his life and stress into perspective.

Messenger

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.


No comments:

Post a Comment