“august of another summer,
and once again I am drinking the sun
and the lilies again are spread across the water.”
-mary oliver
—
gallup park, ann arbor, mi, usa – august 2022
Aug1
Tag Archives: mary oliver
Dec23
an answer.
THE NIGHT TRAVELER
Passing by, he could be anybody:
A thief, a tradesman, a doctor
On his way to a worried house.
But when he stops at your gate,
Under the room where you lie half-asleep,
You know it is not just anyone—
It is the Night Traveler.
You lean your arms on the sill
And stare down. But all you can see
Are bits of wilderness attached to him—
Twigs, loam and leaves,
Vines and blossoms. Among these
You feel his eyes, and his hands
Lifting something in the air.
He has a gift for you, but it has no name.
It is windy and woolly.
He holds it in the moonlight, and it sings
Like a newborn beast,
Like a child at Christmas,
Like your own heart as it tumbles
In love’s green bed.
You take it, and he is gone.
All night—and all your life, if you are willing—
It will nuzzle your face, cold-nosed,
Like a small white wolf;
It will curl in your palm
Like a hard blue stone;
It will liquefy into a cold pool
Which, when you dive into it,
Will hold you like a mossy jaw.
A bath of light. An answer.
—
credits: poem from Twelve Moons, 1979 by Mary Oliver, painting – google images
Dec2
hearts to you.
my heart goes out to all children, their families, and their teachers
senselessly lost or hurt this week in a just a moment at a local school.
as a mother, grandmother, teacher, and human
i cannot make sense of it.
—
image credit: wild and precious
Dec2
hearts to you.
my heart goes out to all children, their families, and their teachers
senselessly lost or hurt this week in a just a moment at a local school.
as a mother, grandmother, teacher, and human
i cannot make sense of it.
—
image credit: wild and precious
Aug18
all the loveliness.
queen anne’s lace in august
—
Passing The Unworked Field
Queen Anne’s lace
is hardly prized but
neither is it idle,
look how it
stands fiercely
on its thin stem,
how it
nurtures its white budlets
with the
gift of the sun,
how it
makes for this world
all the
loveliness it can.
-Mary Oliver
Nov14
mysteries, yes.
“MYSTERIES, YES”
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.”
― Mary Oliver, Evidence: Poems
Jan18
between.
“i simply do not distinguish between work and play.”
-mary oliver
—
r.i.p. mary oliver, one of my favorite poets – i agree.
—
image credit: alice boughton,
Teachers and kindergarten students
Warm-toned Gelatin Silver Print unmounted 1910 USA
Apr9
journey.
“One day you finally knew what you had to do,
and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice —
though the whole house began to tremble
and you felt the old tug at your ankles.
“Mend my life!” each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do, though the wind
pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations
though their melancholy was terrible.
It was already late enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
But little by little, as you left your voice behind,
the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds
and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own,
that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world,
determined to do the only thing you could do —
determined to save the only life that you could save.”
—
credits: papercut by annie howe papercuts, poetry by Mary Oliver – ‘Journey.’
Mar8
unimaginable.
Apr10
be astonished.
– mary oliver
I didn't have my glasses on.... 