The small world that surrounds you

I sit in my garden very quietly
and listen to the wind’s ancient breath.
I could sit here for hours,
my life’s purpose fulfilled.

What richness nature hides
behind the veil of inattention,
So many tiny living beings
to observe and love.

There is Sebastian the spider,
who you thought was icky first
but has slowly grown on you,
observing his tireless work
of spinning and waiting.

There are the bees caressing the flowers,
humming their working song.
At twilight the bright yellow flowers close their petals,
only to open them again with the sun’s first kiss.
What a miracle, if you really think about it.

I sit in my garden to pay attention, to hold
all beings tenderly in my gaze.
What is homemaking but caressing and
tenderly loving the small world that surrounds you
with your bare, assuring human hands?

Open windows of castle showing library

3 thoughts on “The small world that surrounds you

  1. Lisa McCrohan says:

    Again, this is lovely. Thank you for such exquisite poetry and images. I’ll have to share a poem I did called Mary Oliver, the Bees, and Me.

    On Sat, Sep 25, 2021 at 7:06 AM Milena’s Gentle Rain wrote:

    > Milena posted: ” I sit in my garden very quietlyand listen to the wind’s > ancient breath.I could sit here for hours,my life’s purpose fulfilled. What > richness nature hidesbehind the veil of inattention,So many tiny living > beingsto observe and love. There is Sebastia” >

  2. Lisa McCrohan says:

    Here’s my poem!

    Me and the Bees and Mary Oliver I watched two bees today playing on my lavender plant for fifteen minutes.

    As I sat in the grass and dirt, I felt my breath flow deeper into my body – like honey slowly spreading into every cell.

    My mind softened into the moment by moment dance of the bees at work with their wings glistening in the sunlight.

    This must be how Mary Oliver felt, I thought, alone with a single creature, watching without disturbing, so deeply grateful for Mother Earth and her simple blessings.

    Communion – outside the walls of the church where certain bodies have been excluded from the table. It happens here, the bees and Mary whispered, and all are welcomed.

    Lisa McCrohan

    On Sat, Sep 25, 2021 at 11:37 AM Lisa McCrohan, LCSW-C, SEP wrote:

    > Again, this is lovely. Thank you for such exquisite poetry and images. > I’ll have to share a poem I did called Mary Oliver, the Bees, and Me. > > On Sat, Sep 25, 2021 at 7:06 AM Milena’s Gentle Rain comment-reply@wordpress.com> wrote: > >> Milena posted: ” I sit in my garden very quietlyand listen to the wind’s >> ancient breath.I could sit here for hours,my life’s purpose fulfilled. What >> richness nature hidesbehind the veil of inattention,So many tiny living >> beingsto observe and love. There is Sebastia” >>

    • Milena says:

      Thank you for your lovely comments, Lisa! The poem is wonderful and makes me feel more in the moment. As it happens, I was pleasantly surprised when I went to church the Sunday before last and heard a rather passionate sermon about ecology and how every living thing, no matter how small, has value. It seems that Pope Francis’ Laudato Si encyclical has had a profound influence on the way the Church looks at non-human beings. This would not have been possible some years before, I think.

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