A Week of Poetry. Day 1: Mary Oliver - Mindful

In commemoration of something, anything. (I have yet to decide exactly what) How about: in commemoration of the fact that giraffes display unusually long and beautiful necks and that people are simultaneously being born and are dying, even as I type this, I have decided that everyday, for the next 6-7 days, I will post a poem, written by someone other than me, that I have not yet familiarized myself with. My first choice happens to be a poem from Mary Oliver. And her poem, written in 2004, is entitled, "Mindful". I hope you enjoy it like I have enjoyed it so far. I don't know why I decided to start this on a Thursday night...

Mindful

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?