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Mindful
Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight,
that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.
It was 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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