i'm here! now, now, now

for how many years have you gone through the house
shutting the windows,
while the rain was still five miles away

and veering, o plum-colored clouds, to the north
away from you

and you did not even know enough
to be sorry,

you were glad
those silver sheets, with the occasional golden staple,

were sweeping on, elsewhere,
violent and electric and uncontrollable--

and will you find yourself finally wanting to forget
all enclosures, including

the enclosure of yourself, o lonely leaf, and will you
dash finally, frantically,

to the windows and haul them open and lean out
to the dark, silvered sky, to everything

that is beyond capture, shouting
i'm here, i'm here! now, now, now, now, now."

-Mary Oliver

::

I opened the door to let the dog out this morning. We both did a double take. (She looked up to say, I love snow as much as the next dog, but 5:30 is too early to traipse out in flakes up to my hind quarters.)

When did these six inches of snow creep in and press a thousand noses against my doorstep?

Ah, but they are here, and so is January. And so we will take it all in stride, in skis, on sleds. We will stand beneath the trees in their vertical game of pick-up sticks. We will open the figurative windows, lean out, shout to everything that is beyond capture that we are here, now, now, now.
::


I'm wondering, what would you shout today, if you were to haul open the windows and lean out to the world?