Because May is May :: In honor of my sister Ironic Women :: To celebrate completing the first quarter of a month-long Double-Iron (so far, 13.5 miles on foot, 57 miles cycling, 40 laps swimming) :: By way of sharing only the hundredth part of today’s ride near the hub of the miracle ::
by Mary Oliver
May, and among the miles of leafing,
blossoms storm out of the darkness —
windflowers and moccasin flowers. The bees
dive into them and I too, to gather
their spiritual honey. Mute and meek, yet theirs
is the deepest certainty that this existence too —
this sense of well-being, the flourishing
of the physical body — rides
near the hub of the miracle that everything
is a part of, is as good
as a poem or a prayer, can also make
luminous any dark place on earth.
(“May” by Mary Oliver)
Where will you ride today?