Today I’m flying low and I’m
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.
by Mary Oliver
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| Photograph Credit: Rachel Giese Brown |
For more information about the poet, Mary Oliver, see:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/mary-oliver
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