I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.
Mary Oliver
6 comments:
I'm pretty sure I sent that poem to Michael Hart when he was on his first tour in Iraq. Why did I choose that one? Not sure now. But I when I read that, I could be anywhere and return mentally to a NC night. I think I wanted to send him that kind of comfort - a small mental return to home.
I wonder if he ever got that letter?
God, I love that poem. Vanishing into something better....
you introduced me to Mary Oliver... love her! thanks!
This poem also reminds me a bit of this one:
http://www.sylviaplathforum.com/ll.html
Like a rebuttal? Like a nod. Like a different way to move through life, with the same layers of rebirth?
I read that poem a long time ago in school; it's interesting how a few years will wholly change a poem's meaning to you. God, it's beautiful and dark.
so dark
Post a Comment