吀栀e Messenger My work is loving the world. Here the sun昀氀owers, there the hummingbird—equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. Here the clam deep in the speckled sand. Are my boots old? Is my coat torn? Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what ma琀琀ers, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished. 吀栀e phoebe, the delphinium. 吀栀e sheep in the pasture, and the pasture. Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here, which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes, a mouth with which to give shouts of joy to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam, telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever. • Mary Oliver •