Thursday, May 09, 2024

Thursday Poem - May

May, and among the miles of leafing,
blossoms storm out of the darkness—
windflowers and moccasin flowers
The bees dive into them and I too,
to gather their spiritual honey.
Mute and meek, yet theirs is the deepest
certainty that this existence too—
this sense of well-being, the flourishing
of the physical body—rides near
the hub of the miracle that everything
is a part of, is as good as a poem
or a prayer, can also make luminous
any dark place on earth.

Mary Oliver

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