25.
Messenger
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 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. Mary
Oliver
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