Tom Dancer’s gift of a whitebark pine cone

You never know
What opportunity
Is going to travel to you,
Or through you.

Once a friend gave me
A small pine cone-
One of a few
He found in the scat

Of a grizzly
In Utah maybe,
Or Wyoming.
I took it home

And did what I supposed
He was sure I would do-
I ate it,
Thinking

How it had traveled
Through that rough
And holy body.
It was crisp and sweet.

It was almost a prayer
Without words.
My gratitude, Tom Dancer,
For this gift of the world
I adore so much
And want to belong to.
And thank you too, great bear

Autor: Mary Oliver

Tom Dancer’s gift of a whitebark pine cone<br /><br />You never know<br />	What opportunity<br />		Is going to travel to you,<br />			Or through you.<br /><br />Once a friend gave me<br />	A small pine cone-<br />		One of a few<br />			He found in the scat<br /><br />Of a grizzly<br />	In Utah maybe,<br />		Or Wyoming.<br />			I took it home<br /><br />And did what I supposed<br />	He was sure I would do-<br />		I ate it,<br />		 Thinking<br /><br />How it had traveled <br />	Through that rough<br />		And holy body.<br />			It was crisp and sweet.<br /><br />It was almost a prayer<br />	Without words.<br />		My gratitude, Tom Dancer, <br />			For this gift of the world<br />			I adore so much<br />			 And want to belong to.<br />				And thank you too, great bear - Mary Oliver


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