Sunday Morning

When I found the seal pup alone on the far beach,
not sleeping but looking all around, I didn’t
reason it out, for reason would have sent me away,
I just
went close but not too close, and lay down on the sand
with my back toward it, and
pretty soon it rolled over, and rolled over
until the length of its body lay along
the length of my body, and so we touched, and maybe
our breathing together was some kind of heavenly conversation
in God’s delicate and magnifying language, the one
we don’t dare speak out loud,
not yet.

~ Mary Oliver, from “The Return” in From What Do We Know: Poems And Prose Poems.


Notes: Poem via Words for the YearSeal pup photo by gemma reddington

%d bloggers like this: