~~ by Mary Oliver
Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside, looking into the shining world? Because, properly attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion. Can one be passionate about the just, the ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit to no labor in its cause? I don't think so.
All summations have a beginning, all effect has a story, all kindness begins with the sewn seed. Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of light is the crossroads of - indolence, or action.
Be ignited, or be gone.
This seems to be the summer of Mary Oliver. She is guiding my way, showing me the cracks where the light gets in (thank you Leonard Cohen for that amazing lyric). I was out for a walk with my father enjoying the views of the mountains,the smell of freshly mown hay and the colorful gardens along the road. We happened upon a patch of raspberries so sweet and ripe they were practically falling off in our fingers. While picking I noticed a small collection of Hollyhocks, flowers which we used to have in our own garden but have long since disappeared. The are gangly plants but produce a most delicate flower. I was happy to find these bees busy collecting nectar when I went over to further inspect them.
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