Tea and Books

"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me."                     -C.S. Lewis


It's a chilly Sunday afternoon, and I am sitting at my desk with steaming hot mint green tea in my roommate's pretty "Le Pear, Produit de France" mug and leftover pizza on a stark white plate.  There must be some romance in that, and if there is, I'm sure the poets will find it.  I write short stories.


The real issue is my reading homework and legal writing assignment and the many ways to avoid them.  So far, I have watched a movie (One Night with the King, the Hollywood-ized story of Queen Ester), spent too much time on Facebook, revised an old short story to give it a new spin, and heated up my tea and pizza.  Of course, my killer sore throat, hacking cough and inability to breathe are contributing factors to my unmotivated behavior.  And -- contrary to friendly advice -- the copious amount of Vitamin C I have taken over the past couple days has not yet worked its magic.


I would, however, like to post one of my favorite poems for you.  (I never said I do not read poetry.)  It is simple and beautiful, though I may not agree with all of the author's politics.


"The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?


Now, I think, I will start a load of laundry.