The Summer Day

I'm taking a vacation day tomorrow, and with the holiday Monday that makes for a 4 day weekend. For no reason. I have absolutely no plans. And that's just the way I like it and want it. This poem kinda reminded me of why:

The Summer Day

By: Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

You might be able to find me by the pool sipping on a margarita...

Have a fabulous Independence Day! And God bless our troops who still fight for our rights to work, to live freely, and to pray.

Simply,
MJ