I got up really early this morning
while it was still dark
and I read Mary Oliver's WHY I WAKE EARLY
I came upon this poem:
"Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does it End?"
There are things you can't reach. But
you can reach out to them, and all day long.
The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God.
And it can keep you busy as anything else, and happier.
The snake slides away; the fish jumps, like a little lily,
out of the water and back in; the goldfinches sing
from the unreachable top of the tree.
I look: morning to night I am never done with looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with arms open.
And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree--
they are all in this too.
And now I will tell you the truth.
Everything in the world
comes.
At least, closer.
And, cordially.
Like the nibbling, tinsel-eyed fish; the unlooping snake.
Like goldfinches, little dolls of gold
fluttering around the corner of the sky
of God, the blue air.
This is a beautiful world that we live in.
If we look hard
We will be able to see the divine in the mundane.