. . . it has been a day today . . .

nothing awful, but im definitely tired for no reason other than the fact that my brain just needs to turn off...

i watched a little top chef, typed out an email, looked at pics for a bit, & even did a little light facebook stalking.

and then i realized that i just needed something more. something to awaken or encourage or even provoke my mind into some sort of existence... even for these last few hours that im awake. ill take anything...

so i picked up one of my mary oliver books... a new one (love).

and i just started flipping through the pages. not necessarily landing on a single poem or even staying there long enough to read one.

i looked at the titles. the phrasing. a word here. something about a bird there.

it was wonderful. all of it.

and then i realized something: it is moments like these where a part of me comes to life. a part that ive maybe lost in the craziness of the week.

now, i am not an artist or writer or anything of the sort.

however.

it is in that small moment where maybe i can feel like i have something bigger than myself to offer the world. that maybe the world has something greater to offer me.

that maybe... just maybe... i know a little more than i give myself credit for. i like those moments. they are few & far between, but when they appear, i take them as a gift~

i put Rod Stewart's "Forever Young" on repeat. that song has been doing something in me lately. something good. so go check it out~ (click the song title)

So, that's what ive got to bring to the world today.

Oh... maybe ill leave you with a little mary oliver~

Maybe
   ~M. Oliver


Sweet Jesus, talking
  his melancholy madness,
     stood up in the boat
        and the sea lay down,


silky and sorry.
  So everybody was saved
     that night.
       But you know how it is


when something
  different crosses
     the threshold- the uncles
       mutter together,


the women walk away,
  the young brother begins
     to sharpen his knife.
       Nobody knows what the soul is.


It comes and goes
  like the wind over the water--
     sometimes, for days,
       you don't think of it.


Maybe, after the sermon,
  after the multitude was fed,
     one of two of them felt
       the soul slip forth


like a tremor of pure sunlight,
  before exhaustion,
     that wants to swallow everything,
       gripped their bones and left them


miserable and sleepy,
  as they are now, forgetting
     how the wind tore at the sails
       before he rose and talked to it--


tender and luminous and demanding
  as he always was--
     a thousand times more frightening
       than the killer sea.