Today again I am hardly myself.
It happens over and over.
It is heaven-sent.
It flows through me
like the blue wave.
Green leaves – you may believe this or not –
have once or twice
emerged from the tips of my fingers
deep in the woods,
in the reckless seizure of spring.
Though, of course, I also know that other song,
the sweet passion of one-ness.
Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the tumbled pine needles she toiled.
And I thought:: she will never live another life but this one.
And I thought:: if she lives her life with all her strength is she not wonderful and wise?
And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything until I came to myself.
And still, even in these northern woods, on these hills of sand,
I have flown from the other window of myself
to become white heron, blue whale, red fox, hedgehog.
Oh, sometimes already my body has felt like the body of a flower!
Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched
among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.
by Mary Oliver
“Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer nights.”
“All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.”
“Being kind isn’t always easy. Or convenient. But it has the potential to change everything.”