Listening to the songs

Thinking about how writing in/about the present [the songs of two mockingbirds] and then switching to a long time ago [a story about an old couple and "two strangers who were not men but gods"] and again switching [back] to the present " [wherever I was supposed to be this morning"] conjures up two generations of meanings.

MOCKINGBIRDS by Mary Oliver

This morning

two mockingbirds

in the green field

were spinning and tossing

the white ribbons

of their songs

into the air.

I had nothing

better to do

than listen.

I mean this

seriously.

In Greece,

a long time ago,

an old couple

opened their door

to two strangers

who were,

it soon appeared,

not men at all,

but gods.

It is my favorite story--

how the old couple

had almost nothing to give

but their willingness

to be attentive--

but for this alone

the gods loved them

and blessed them--

when they rose

out of their mortal bodies,

like a million particles of water

from a fountain,

the light

swept into all the corners

of the cottage,

and the old couple,

shaken with understanding,

bowed down--

but still they asked for nothing

but the difficult life

which they had already.

And the gods smiled, as they vanished,

clapping their great wings.

Wherever it was

I was supposed to be

this morning--

whatever it was I said

I would be doing--

I was standing

at the edge of the field--

I was hurrying

through my own soul,

opening its dark doors--

I was leaning out;

I was listening.

This poem makes me wonder about where[ever] it is I am supposed to be on this Sunday and how it is I want this day of mine to be.