Give to the Lord glory and praise!
--Psalm 29
Sixty-seven years, oh Lord, to look at the clouds,
the trees, in deep, moist summer
daisies and morning glories
opening every morning
their small, ecstatic faces –
Or maybe I should just say
how I wish I had a voice
like the meadowlark’s,
sweet, clear, and reliably
slurring all day long
from the fencepost, or the long grass
where it lives
in a tiny by adequate grass hut
beside the mullein and the everlasting,
the faint-pink roses
that have never been improved, but come to bud
then open like little soft sighs
under the meadowlark’s whistle, its breath-praise,
its thrill-song, its anthem, its thanks, its
alleluia. Alleluia, oh Lord.
--Mary Oliver,
While I Am Writing a Poem
to Celebrate Summer,
the Meadowlark Begins to Sing
Image source: https://cirweb.org/blog/western-meadowlark-songs
Quotation source
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