Why I Wake Early

by Mary Oliver

I believe I will never quite know. Though I play at the edges of knowing, truly I know our part is not knowing, but looking, and touching, and loving, which is the way I walked on, softly, through the pale-pink morning light.

I look; morning to night I am never done with looking. Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around as though with your arms open.

Oh Lord, how shining and festive is your gift to us, if we only look, and see.

Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last! What a task to ask of anything, or anyone, yet it is ours, and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.