Friends, I am happily unplugged today, and wishing you a pocket of quiet reflection as well. Here with a similar and more completely formed wish is Invitation from Mary Oliver’s Red Bird :

to linger

for just a little while

out of your busy

 

 

and very important day

for the goldfinches

that have gathered

in a field of thistles

 

 

for a musical battle,

to see who can sing

the highest note,

or the lowest,

 

 

or the most expressive of mirth,

or the most tender?

Their strong, blunt beaks

drink the air

 

 

as they strive

melodiously

not for your sake

and not for mine

 

 

and not for the sake of winning

but for sheer delight and gratitude –

believe us, they say,

it is a serious thing

 

 

just to be alive

on this fresh morning

in this broken world.

I beg of you,

 

 

do not walk by

without pausing

to attend to this

rather ridiculous performance.

 

 

It could mean something.

It could mean everything.

It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: