And as with prayer, which is a dipping of oneself toward the light, there is a consequence of attentiveness to the grass itself, and to the sky itself, and to the floating bird. I too leave the fret and enclosure of my own life. I too dip toward the immeasurable.
– Mary Oliver, Winter Hours
Thank you to Katie, whose post about this book reminded me of it and caused me to re-read it.
You can’t go wrong with Mary Oliver, but these words seemed especially perfect for today. Thanks for sharing.
You have helped point me toward Mary Oliver – so I am glad my words reminded you of hers! xo