thirst

.

Another morning and I wake with thirst
for the goodness I do not have. 

I walk out to the pond and all the way God  

has given us such beautiful lessons. 

Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but
sulked and hunched over my books past the
hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,
a little more time. 

Love for the earth and love for you are having
such a long conversation in my heart. 

Who knows what will finally happen or where
I will be sent, yet already I have given a great
many things away, expecting to be told to pack
nothing, except the prayers which, with this
thirst, I am slowly learning.

–Mary Oliver

.




image via in love i persevere




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In Blackwater Woods

.

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,

are giving off the rich

fragrance of cinnamon

and fulfillment,

the long tapers

of cattails

are bursting and floating away over

the blue shoulders

of the ponds,

and every pond,

no matter what its

name is, is

nameless now.

Every year

everything

I have ever learned

in my lifetime

leads back to this: the fires

and the black river of loss

whose other side

is salvation,

whose meaning

none of us will ever know.

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.

–Mary Oliver

.

heavy

.

That time

I thought I could not

go any closer to grief

without dying

I went closer,

and I did not die.

Surely God 

had His hand in this,

as well as friends.

Still, I was bent,

and my laughter, 

as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found.

Then said my friend Daniel

(brave even among lions),

"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it-

books, bricks, grief-

it's all in the way

you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,

put it down."

So I went practicing.

Have you noticed?

Have you heard 

the laughter

that comes, now and again,

out of my startled mouth?

How I linger

to admire, admire, admire

the things of this world

that are kind, and maybe

also troubled-

roses in the wind,

the sea geese on the steep waves,

a love

to which there is no reply?

–Mary Oliver

.