and Mary Oliver spoke…

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May
by Mary Oliver

May, and among the miles of leafing,
blossoms storm out of the darkness—
windflowers and moccasin flowers. The bees
dive into them and I too, to gather
their spiritual honey. Mute and meek, yet theirs
is the deepest certainty that this existence too—
this sense of well-being, the flourishing
of the physical body—rides
near the hub of the miracle that everything
is a part of, is as good
as a poem or a prayer, can also make
luminous any dark place on earth.

• Art by Alan Parry

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Text and image source: Petie Barre https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0Lb2rDqZLvnxs4e3DDpgNQXoC9gDWkSnCHkALL2bcXUf7eW5vY2CFQZnd3WdC57Cel&id=100032362197041&mibextid=Nif5oz