Opening Devotions, Mary Oliver’s five-decade-spanning anthology of poems, we found this gem, that sets the tone for a new week.

Everyday
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for —
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world —
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant —
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these —
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

 

She couldn’t have said it better…

Everyday
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight

 

We think of the ordinary wonders that have knocked us out…

 

…

…

…

…

…

…

 

 

What unexpected marvels will this day bring?