Why wonder about the loaves and the fishes?
If you say the right words, the wine expands.
If you say them with love
and the felt ferocity of that love
and the felt necessity of that love,
the fish explode into many.
Imagine him, speaking,
and don't worry about what is reality,
or what is plain, or what is mysterious.
If you were there, it was all those things.
If you can imagine it, it is all those things.
Eat, drink, be happy.
Accept the miracle.
Accept, too, each spoken word
spoken with love.
I went into the city in Melbourne today with family, and we stumbled upon this bookshop, so I bought a book of poetry, just because I was in Melbourne, in a bookshop, on a holiday, and I could (and if I hadn't ordered it in the mail already I'd have bought Lila by Marilynne Robinson because they had it in stock - drat!). So, here is poem. Mary Oliver is, from what I glean, some kind of mash up of Buddhism, pantheism and the God of the Bible, but I like much of her poetry.