A Poem For A Thursday

        Luke
        Mary Oliver

        I had a dog
          who loved flowers.
               Briskly she went
                     through the fields,

        yet paused
          for the honeysuckle
                or the rose,
                      her dark head

        and her wet nose
          touching
                the face
                     of every one

        with its petals
           of silk,
                 with its fragrance
                      rising

        into the air

           where the bees
                 their bodies
                      heavy with pollen,

        hovered--
           and easily
                 she adored
                      every blossom,

        not in the serious
           careful way
                that we choose
                     this blossom or that blossom--

        the way we praise or don't praise--
            the way we love
                  or don't love--
                      but the way

        we long to be--
            that happy
                  in the heaven of earth--
                      that wild, that loving.

Wow, this poem! It appears in Mary Oliver's newest collection, Dog Songs, which is currently sitting on my bookshelf at home, yet to be opened since receiving it as a Christmas gift. I seriously can't believe I haven't delved into it yet. Lucky for me, Luke leapt into my inbox via The Writer's Almanac this morning and I got a sneak peak. This simple, sweet poem is exactly what I needed today. Dogs are great. Flowers are great. Happy Thursday!