Coming to God: First Days
Lord, what shall I do that I can’t quiet myself?
Here is the bread, and here is the cup,
and I can’t quiet myself.
To enter the language of transformation!
To learn the importance of stillness,
with one’s hands folded!
When will my eyes of rejoicing turn peaceful?
When will my joyful feet grow still?
When will my heart stop its prancing
as over the summer grass?
Lord, I would run for you, loving the miles for your sake.
I would climb the highest tree
to be that much closer.
Lord, I will learn also to kneel down
into the world of the invisible,
the inscrutable and the everlasting.
Then I will move no more than the leaves of a tree
on a day of no wind,
bathed in light,
like the wanderer who has come home at last
and kneels in peace, done with all unnecessary things;
every motion; even words.
Mary Oliver, Thirst: Poems by Mary Oliver, Boston: Beacon Press, 2006, 23.