The Warp & Weft of Living

Morning Poem

by

Mary Oliver

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches-

and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies. 

If it is your nature

to be happy

you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination

alighting everywhere.

And if your spirit

carries within it

the thorn

that is heavier than lead-

if it's all you can do

to keep on trudging-

there is still

somewhere deep within you

a beast shouting that the earth

is exactly what it wanted-

each pond with its blazing lilies

is a prayer heard and answered

lavishly,

every morning.

whether or not

you have ever dared to be happy,

whether or not

you have ever dared to pray.

I have never read anyone who can stop me...from thinking...from breathing...

Mary Oliver's words stir my soul to the very depths of truth and beingness.