Today … By Mary Oliver
Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.
What does this poem stir in you
What does taking the day off look like for you?
When was the last time you did not task or get things done?
How do you embrace stillness?
How has the “shelter in place” changed your perspective on doing?
I can't hear you?