the start of something (and everything and nothing)

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heart,

i implore you,

it's time to come back,

from the dark,


it's morning,

the hills are pink

and the roses

whatever they felt


in the valley of night

are opening now

their soft dresses,

their leaves


are shining.

why are you laggard?

sure you have seen this

a thousand times,


which isn't half enough.

let the world

have its way with you,

luminous as it is


with mystery

and pain-

graced as it is,

with the ordinary.

---

"summer morning"

written by mary oliver, in her book red bird

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