Poetry Sunday: The Sun by Mary Oliver
As I sat outside in the warmth of a winter sun I thought there must be a poem that expresses this feeling that it gives me, and if there is such a poem, it was probably written by Mary Oliver. So, I went looking for it and sure enough, here it is. The Sun by Mary Oliver Have you ever seen anything in your life more wonderful than the way the sun, every evening, relaxed and easy, floats toward the horizon and into the clouds or the hills, or the rumpled sea, and is gone-- and how it slides again out of the blackness, every morning, on the other side of the world, like a red flower streaming upward on its heavenly oils, say, on a morning in early summer, at its perfect imperial distance-- and have you ever felt for anything such wild love-- do you think there is anywhere, in any language, a word billowing enough for the pleasure that fills you, as the sun reaches out, as it warms you as you stand there, empty-handed-- or have you too turned from this world-- or have you too gone cr...
