What does it mean, say the words, that the earth is so beautiful? And what shall I do about it? What is the gift that I should bring to the world? Wh… - Mary Oliver

What countries, what visitations, what pomp would satisfy me as thoroughly as Blackwater Woods on a sun-filled morning, or, equally, in the rain?

I woke
And crept
Like a cat

On silent feet
About my own house-
To look

At you
While you were sleeping,
Your hair

Sprayed on the pillow,
Your eyes
Closed,

Your body
Safe and solitary,
And my doors

Shut for your safety
And your comfort.
I did this

Thinking I was intruding
Yet wanting to see
The most beautiful thing

That has ever been in my house.

And I thought: I shall remember this all my life. The peril, the running, the howling of the dogs, the smothering. Then the happiness — of action, of leaping. Then the green sweetness of distance. And the trees: their thickness and their compassion, all around.