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?
– Mary Oliver
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