I would like people to remember of me, how inexhaustible was her mindfulness. - Mary Oliver

Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

And there you are
on the shore,

fitful and thoughtful, trying
to attach them to an idea — some news of your own life.
But the lilies

are slippery and wild — they are
devoid of meaning, they are
simply doing,
from the deepest

spurs of their being,
what they are impelled to do
every summer.
And so, dear sorrow, are you.

It does no good to bark at the television,
I said. I’ve tried it too. So he stopped.