blossom

As the first blossoms finally opened their fragile petals, it feels like spring is really here! It’s quite easy for me to be delighted by their beauty. But isn’t it much more difficult to be astonished by the common, the ordinary? Like the dandelions in the grass or another ladybug, … ¬†Still that’s what gives us daily joy and happiness.

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 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?  

 

Mary Oliver

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