Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Summer Day


Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver

I love this poem, especially the final two lines.
It brings about my newfound interest in living life
fearlessly.  This is MY time to do everything and anything
I want.  No regrets.  Just enjoying my "wild and precious"


  1. wow, i just posted that yesterday on my tumblr!

    such a great poem!

  2. Love this and love your attitude! I also love the last two lines. So inspiring. Thanks for stopping by my blog and for your sweetness! xo


  3. the poem and picture are both beautiful!


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