Mindful

My daughter sent us this poem that deeply touched her, as it like wise spoke to me of the wonder of His great love.

Rich

every day
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 is 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?

-Mary Oliver.