Saturday morn poetry…
Saturday Morning, Yes
I’m up early this morning.
Listening to quiet,
hopeful for sun’s rise,
aware of the gift
of my steady heart beat.
I reach for Mary Oliver’s
and dive into scenes
and miracles and mysteries
of this creation, this world.
“And, if you have not been enchanted by this adventure – your life –
what would do for you?”
(“To Begin With, the Sweet Grass”)
this is the way to start the day.
Acknowledge the act of waking up,
taste first light,
stretch out these tender sinews of the body
and know that you are alive.
Now, here’s a taste of who and what inspired me. Thank you, Mary O:
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bounds will
never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.