Sometimes I grow weary of the days, with all their fits and starts.
I want to climb some old gray mountain, slowly, taking
the rest of my lifetime to do it….
I want to look back at everything, forgiving it all,
and peaceful, knowing the last thing there is to know.
All that urgency! Not what the earth is about!…
In ten thousand years, maybe, a piece of the mountain will fall.
Mary Oliver, from Swan: Poems and Prose Poems, Beacon Press.