Friday, February 20, 2026

MORNING POEM ☀️

On Meditating, Sort Of ~


Meditation, so I’ve heard, is best accomplished

if you entertain a certain strict posture.

Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree.

So why should I think I could ever be successful?


Some days I fall asleep, or land in that

even better place ~ half-asleep ~ where the world,

spring, summer, autumn, winter ~

flies through my mind in its

hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.


So I just lie like that, while distance and time

reveal their true attitudes: they never

heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.


Of course I wake up finally

thinking, how wonderful to be who I am,

made out of earth and water,

my own thoughts, my own fingerprints ~

all that glorious, temporary stuff.


~ Mary Oliver

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