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.
Written by Mary Oliver
What You’re Saying