I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk.
But it’s spring,
and the thrush is in the woods,
somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing.
And so, now, I am standing by the open door.
And now I am stepping down into the grass.
I am touching a few leaves.
I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies
move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field.
And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening
is the real work.
Maybe the world, without us,
is the real poem.
~ Mary Oliver ~
(The Leaf and the Cloud)
excerpt from The Book of Time
Love the poem and it is so you, Laura! I was having lunch today and a mama cardinal came on the deck to check it out. Soon her mate flew over and she went also. Even though we are not feeding they come but usually not on the deck itself.
Come on over, I have a rhurbarb pie in oven. Jill
loves it and she is spending night. Steve has lots in the garden and the strawberries are coming
soon. Hope your week is going well as I know it
is a big one. love you both
This poem reminds me of the me that is buried under deadlines and tension. I just finished my design final project that is due today. It is a revision of riverdaughter.com. Take a look!
Several more hours of studying, one more exam and a plate of deviled eggs and then … I am done!!!