Saturday, May 26, 2012

Chance look

Whether hawk or eagle, I do not know.  Despite my love of nature, the faces of her children I have not learned.  He was gliding upon the strong wind’s thermals while I walked in the same wind’s dust pecking at my skin and eyes. One soaring.  One fighting.  A chance look upward to see, perhaps, why I gather feathers.

Don't bother me.
I've just
been born.
The butterfly's loping flight
carries it through the country of the leaves...
for long delicious moments it is perfect
lazy, riding motionless in the breeze on the soft stalk
of some ordinary flower.
For years and years I struggled
just to love my life. And then
the butterfly
rose, weightless, in the wind.
"don't love your life
too much," it said,
and vanished into the world.
-Mary Oliver “Ample Rain”

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