The singular and cheerful life
of any flower
in anyone’s garden
or any still unowned field-
if there are any-
catches me
by the heart,
by its color
by its obedience
to the holiest of laws:
be alive
until you are not…
those princes of everything green-
the grasses
of which there are truly
an uncountable company,
each on its singular stem
striving
to rise and ripen.
What, in the earth world,
is there not to be amazed by
and to be steadied by
and to cherish?
Oh, my dear heart,
my own dear heart,
full of hesitations,
questions, choice of directions,
look at the world.
Behold the morning glory,
the meanest flower, the ragweed, the thistle.
Look at the grass.
~ Mary Oliver
~ Image by Claudia Kuhn
Text and image source: The Garden of Pensiveness https://www.facebook.com/367268523352486/posts/3299941853418457/
Purplerays 