Poetry for my alcoholic soul

I was reading some of my favorite poems tonight and this line by the amazing Sylvia Plath struck me since I’m almost day 60 of being sober. When I drank I thought I was so put together. I was really drinking lies and smiles. Wow. Removing my “drinking privilege” was the BEST decision of my life. Keep going sober crew! :yellow_heart::sparkles::orange_heart::sparkles::heart::sparkles::purple_heart::sparkles::black_heart::sparkles::green_heart::sparkles::blue_heart::sparkles::white_heart:


One of my faves… :relaxed:

The Summer Day
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?


@M-be-free49 love it!!!

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Post more when you can! And I will too. Alas - working late, and not on anything poetic! :laughing:

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