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Thursday, April 20, 2023

Poem: “Messenger” by: Mary Oliver

 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 the 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 all of them, over and over, how it is 

that we live forever.

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