It is the first day of summer and so I'm featuring possibly my favorite poem about the season.
I always love the poet's confession that "I don’t know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention..." To that I can only say "Amen!"
So, here's to paying attention and to taking the time to notice the grasshoppers of the world.
by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
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?
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?
I like this poem, one I haven't read before. No plans ever for my life, really, but just to enjoy and observe.
ReplyDeleteSame here. I think that is why this poem speaks to (and for) me so eloquently.
DeleteOnce in a while one finds perfection in life and Mary Oliver’s poems are as close to it as one might get.I don’t think I have ever had grand designs for my “one wild and precious life,” but for the most part I have been very satisfied with it. And still am. Happy solstice, Dorothy.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't agree more about Oliver, and a very happy Solstice to you, David.
DeleteI've read this poem time and again. One of the best poems about nature and life, ever. My one wild and precious life has led me to reading this poem on a Sunday afternoon as birds sing.
ReplyDeleteI read it quite often. Basically whenever I need to be uplifted and that seems to occur quite frequently these days.
DeleteI love this Mary Oliver poem, and the line... my wild and precious life' is the best line to sum it all up.
ReplyDeleteAgreed.
DeleteIt's those last two lines that I really love! It's a great poem. And I hope you have a great week. :D
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lark, and the same to you.
DeleteThis is a famous one. Those two last lines ... make you think about all you want to be doing with your days left. :-)
ReplyDeleteIndeed they do. What a wise woman this poet was.
DeleteHappy summer.
ReplyDelete...I have less interest in who made stuff. I plan to enjoy them.
ReplyDelete