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The Sun by Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone—
and how it slides again

out of the blackness
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance—
and have you ever felt for anything

such wild love—
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed—
or have you too
turned from this world—

or have you too
gone crazy
for power
for things?

Although the official start to summer is later in June, I am excited to begin my summer vacation. When I saw the weather forecast for today (cloudy/rainy), I thought it would be great since I had small tasks to accomplish. Instead the sun shone all morning, and I relinquished my original do to list for an abbreviated version. It's summer, I can do it tomorrow... I will keep my one thing on my list, a six o'clock tee time.

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