I meant to live a quiet life

Snow, slush, ice. Warmish days start the melting, then it freezes. Bits of brown grass are visible around the edges. The birds are singing more, as the wall of winter opens to distractions and daydreams.

In five days it will officially be spring. A poem by Mary Oliver:

Spring

This morning
two birds
fell down the side of the maple tree

like a tuft of fire
a wheel of fire
a love knot

out of control as they plunged through the air
pressed against each other
and I thought

how I meant to live a quiet life
how I meant to live a life of mildness and meditation
tapping the careful words against each other

and I thought--
as though I were suddenly spinning, like a bar of silver
as though I had shaken my arms and lo! they were
      wings--

of the Buddha
when he rose from his green garden
when he rose in his powerful ivory body

when he turned to the long dusty road without end
when he covered his hair with ribbons and the petals
         of flowers
when he opened his hands to the world.