Watching

I love Mary Oliver's poetry. It calls me to look, to expect the unexpected, to joy in the unknown surprises of life. I'm watching a menagerie of birds around the three-trunked tree that is home to our bird/squirrel feeder. A small grey squirrel jumps from the tree to the bird bath, has a drink, then returns to his vigilant attack on the feeder. The birds watch, like kindergartners on the playground, waiting for the big kids to go back inside so they can play on the monkey bars.

Why I Wake Early

by Mary Oliver

Hello, sun in my face.

Hello, you who make the morning

and spread it over the fields

and into the faces of the tulips

and the nodding morning glories,

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety-

best preacher that ever was,

dear star, that just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever-darkness,

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light-

good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day

in happiness, in kindness.

This is from Mary Oliver's "Why I Wake Early" published by Beacon Press, Boston.