Gratitude
The Place I Want To Get Back To

is where
in the pinewoods
in the moments between
the darkness

and first light
two deer
come walking down the hill
and when they saw me

they said to each other, okay,
this one is okay,
let's see who she is
and why she is sitting

on the ground, like that,
so quiet, as if
asleep, or in a dream,
but anyway, harmless;

and so they came
on their slender legs
and gazed upon me
not unlike the way

I go out to the dunes and look
and look and look
into the faces of the flowers
and then one of them leaned forward

and nuzzled my hand, and what can my life
bring to me that could exceed
that brief moment?
For twenty years

I have gone everyday to the same woods,
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed,
can't be repeated.

If you want to talk about this
come to visit. I live in the house
near the corner, which I have named
Gratitude.

- Mary Oliver

This poem was an inspiration to me for making this move to Hornby. I thought I would have to wait twenty years to feel the same way about my world but the deer have already nuzzled my hand and gratitude is in every person I see, every move that I make, and every ray of dappled sunlight. And we are so thankful for our beautiful home.

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