not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.
- Mary Oliver
Welcome back to "Poem In Your Post". After a two week "vacation" (translation: computer meltdown, the start of the new school year, visiting relatives...), we're back. Expect a new-to-you poem every Saturday morning, with gratitude to the poets and to you for stopping by to breathe their genius.
I almost always offer "The Summer Day" when we return to academic life after a summer apart, and students still refer to it (without prompting) on their very last reflection of the school year. So I went trolling for another deceptively simple, immediately accessible, and seasonally relevant offering from Oliver for you today. This one speaks "Saturday in September" to me.
Blessings and gratitude to all who are returning to What She Read today, and welcome to those visiting for the first time. I hope you will stay.
MFB,
L
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