Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
~William Blake from “Ah Sun-flower”

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still 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 a 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 sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever
~Mary Oliver “Messenger” from Thirst

My boots are old and leaky and my coat is torn. I’m no longer young but I still go out into the world every day to find something to smile about.

A time-weary sunflower hangs its head to stare down at its roots, no longer able to lift its face to greet the sun as it rises or bid it farewell as it sinks into the horizon. Still very much alive, it focuses instead on where it came from, putting its energy into the seeds, to make sure there is a next generation, and a next and a next.

That is more than half-perfect.
That is its work in this world and that is my work these days.

Weary at times but rejoicing.
Withered and torn and weather-beaten
but still capable of joy and wonder that
we are so deeply loved as we are.