I lie down on the harsh, sun-flavored blades
and bundles of grass;
the grass cares nothing about me
it doesn't want anything from me, it rises to its own purpose, and sweetly,
following the single holy dictum: to be itself,
to let the sky be the sky,
to let a young girl be a young girl freely -
to let a middle-aged woman be,
comfortably, a middle-aged woman.
- Mary Oliver
...and for me, it's enough just as it is, now, in the cold and the dark morning.
