The Greatest Gift

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I am having a Mary Oliver moment … or two … or three. Her poetry is a joy.

 
 

What is the Greatest Gift? by Mary Oliver, in Red Bird

What is the greatest gift?
Could it be the world itself – the oceans, the meadowlark,
  the patience of the trees in the wind?
Could it be love, with its sweet clamor of passion?

Something else – something else entirely
  holds me in thrall.
That you have a life that I wonder about
  more than I wonder about my own.
That you have a life – courteous and intelligent –
  that I wonder about more than I wonder about my own.
That you have a soul – your own, no one else’s –
  that I wonder about more than I wonder about my own.
So that I find my soul clapping its hands for yours
  more than my own.

When did that happen I wonder, is it an age thing? I can’t remember when the switch happened that good things happening to others, or beauty out everywhere, sent my spirits flying. She says it all.

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