Next Time

 This week I had a birthday. It was certainly a time to reflect the blessings in my life. As my fifties draw to an end I have some regret, but I am focusing on what has been good  in my 59 years. The last few days I have read what other writers have had to say about moving ahead in life. 

Those of you that read my blog know I love Mary Oliver. This was one poem that struck a chord with me in my recent readings. Thanks to discovering photography I think I do look at things closer and see those small things like leaves and feathers. This poem is still a good reminder.

Next Time
by Mary Oliver

Next time what I'd do is look at
the earth before saying anything. I'd stop
just before going into a house
and be an emperor for a minute
and listen better to the wind
or to the air being still.
When anyone talked to me, whether
blame or praise or just passing time,
I'd watch the face, how the mouth
has to work, and see any strain, any
sign of what lifted the voice.
And for all, I'd know more -- the earth
bracing itself and soaring, the air
finding every leaf and feather over
forest and water, and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light.

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