“Things!
Burn them, burn them!
Make a beautiful fire!
More room in your heart for love, for the trees!
For the birds who own nothing—the reason they can fly.”
~ “Felicity,” Mary Oliver
I read this while Oliver is leaving again. As is his pattern, home for Christmas and those first, dark months in January. And then, like a bird, he’s often again, carrying so little in exchange for doing so much.
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beautiful thoughts