Dear friends,I try my best to post once a week, but I have been busy with other writing that is for publication. However, I did not want to skip a post, so I am for the first time including a small item not written by me. It is a short poem by the wonderful (and mercifully accessible) Mary Oliver. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Please feel free to comment on how she speaks to you.
Ruben
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The Sun
Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
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