Listening.

MOCKINGBIRDS

This morning

two mockingbirds

in the green field

were spinning and tossing

the white ribbons

of their songs

into the air.

I had nothing

better to do

than listen.

I mean this

seriously.

In Greece,

a long time ago,

an old couple

opened their door

to two strangers

who were,

it soon appeared,

not men at all,

but gods.

It is my favorite story--

how the old couple

had almost nothing to give

but their willingness

to be attentive--

but for this alone

the gods loved them

and blessed them--

when they rose

out of their mortal bodies,

like a million particles of water

from a fountain,

the light

swept into all the corners

of the cottage,

and the old couple,

shaken with understanding,

bowed down--

but still they asked for nothing

but the difficult life

which they had already.

And the gods smiled, as they vanished,

clapping t heir great wings.

Wherever it was

I was supposed to be

this morning--

whatever it was I said

I would be doing--

I was standing

at the edge of the field--

I was hurrying

through my own soul,

opening its dark doors--

I was leaning out;

I was listening.

Mary Oliver