My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the humminbird
Equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums,
Here the clams deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young and still not half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what
Matters, which is my work,

Which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished,
The phoebe, the delphinium,
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here.

Which is gratitude, to be given mind and a heart and these body-clothes, a mouth
With which to give shouts of joy to the moth and the wren, to the sleep dug-up
Clam, telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever.

Author: Mary Oliver