Perfect day

No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie and bleach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.
                      ~Edna St. Vincent Millay

A more perfect day one could not ask for.  Sunday, 80 degrees, bright sun, mild breeze.

At sunset I walked the beach and marveled at the beauty.  I gave thanks for this long, perfect moment on the exquisite log I found, and for a wonderful life so far.  It was prayer, meditation, gratitude, mindfulness—all the things that I suppose were automatic in the early heyday of my life.  Now I treat each event like the rare gem that it is.

I haven't been feeling great lately, so I fear my body's on the move.  I pray with each deep breath, and hope I can rally the troops to fight this thing back.  I need to help my body, and save the few treatments available for a time I might truly need them.

But I digress.  This is about what feels like the first day of Spring.  Rejoice!

Read and post comments |
Send to a friend


4 thoughts on “Perfect day

  1. oh i love edna st-vincent millay. what lovely imagery here and her words are so simple but so moving.
    don't let the "moves" in your body get your down. just like the poem, words don't matter and sometimes the most striking beauty can be found in the things which are not quite in place. they will be righted soon enough!
    another few words from millay, which to me represent how spring really is: they change as we live…

    Let the little birds sing;

    Let the little lambs play;

    Spring is here; and so ’tis spring;—

    But not in the old way!

  2. Each moment is in RECORD. Gems are less precious because they can be replaced. I have just found that crying is easier on line. Feeling better now. Spring is GLORIOUS!

  3. It's funny, i don't think people consider st-vincent millay a "modern" poet, but she actually was, I think. I'll probably post more "old" poetry soon. There's something strangely comforting there—like a hip grandmother or something, especially since they really were hip in their day…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s