Mindful
Mary Oliver

Every day
 I see or I hear
  something
   that more or less

kills me
 with delight
  that leaves me
   like a needle

in the haystack
 of light.
  It is what I was born for—
   to look, to listen,

to lose myself
 inside this soft world—
  to instruct myself
   over and over

in joy,
 and acclamation.
  nor am I talking
   about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
 the very extravagant—
  but of the ordinary,
   the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
 Oh, good scholar,
  I say to myself,
   how can you help

but grow wise
 with such teaching
  as these—
   the untrimmable light

of the world,
 the ocean’s shine
  the prayers that are made
   out of grass?