I've recently discovered the poet Mary Oliver. I'm sure many of you are aware of her work (she's not exactly an unknown - won a Pulitzer in 1984!) but I love the themes and the way she relates to the world.

The piece below fills my heart. Thought I would share here as it speaks to beingfulness, Buddhism, nature-connection, all that good stuff we talk about 😊 The wonderful phrase "resplendently empty" in particular jumps out to me:

Last night

in the fields

I lay down in the darkness

to think about death,

but instead I fell asleep,

as if in a vast and sloping room

filled with those white flowers

that open all summer,

sticky and untidy,

in the warm fields.

When I woke

the morning light was just slipping

in front of the stars,

and I was covered

with blossoms.

I don’t know

how it happened—

I don’t know

if my body went diving down

under the sugary vines

in some sleep-sharpened affinity

with the depths, or whether

that green energy

rose like a wave

and curled over me, claiming me

in its husky arms.

I pushed them away, but I didn’t rise.

Never in my life had I felt so plush,

or so slippery,

or so resplendently empty.

Never in my life

had I felt myself so near

that porous line

where my own body was done with

and the roots and the stems and the flowers

began.