Respect

Everyday
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me with delight,
that leaves me 
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for-
to look, to listen,

to lose myself 
inside this soft world-
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy, 
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking 
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant-
but of the ordinary,
the common,
the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these-
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made 
out of grass?

by Mary Oliver

Respect = to see things a second time.  I like this definition!
Yesterday I sat at the end of the dock with a dear friend.  We discussed everything from family to politics.  We were serious, silly, and sarcastic.  For three hours we talked about our world, big and small.  As we sat on the dock, we looked out at the water and down at the water.  We looked at the young twenty-somethings throwing full beer cans at each other as they jumped off another dock.  We looked out at the sailboats and out at the calmness of the lake.  We looked down at the fish, the seaweed, and the water.  Today I was thinking that I wished I had taken a picture of the water and the fish but realized I still had the images in my head.  It's not the first time we sat and looked at the lake.   Perhaps we looked at it with respect (more than one meaning).