Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

by Mary Oliver

Maybe our world will grow kinder eventually. Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside each of us.

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing. And gave it up. And took my old body and went out into the morning, and sang.

When the sun broke it poured willingly its light over the stones that did not move, not at all, just as, to its always generous term, it shed its light on me, my own body that loves, equally, to hug another body.

I believe in kindness. Also in mischief. Also in singing, especially when singing is not necessarily prescribed.