It is time now, I said,

for the deepening and quieting of the spirit 

among the flux of happenings. 

Something had pestered me so much 

I thought my heart would break. 

I mean, the mechanical part. 

I went down in the afternoon

to the sea

which held me, until I grew easy. 

About tomorrow, who knows anything. 

Except that it will be time, again, 

for the deepening and quieting of the spirit. 

Swimming, One Day in August  |  Mary Oliver