Mostly a Quiet Time this Evening

Hello dear readers:

For those who know me, you understand that it is through poetry, where I find renewal. Without fanfare I offer this poem today.

 

In Blackwater Woods by Mary Oliver

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.

With so many thanks to all of you, dear readers. Life is good. Take care and live fully.

Warmest wishes and gentle hugs to you all. See you next week, Trudy

7 replies
  1. Yoshie
    Yoshie says:

    I encountered this poem for the first time. I read it repeatedly to understand. It directly came into my heart. Thank you and hugs.

    Reply
  2. Karen Cain
    Karen Cain says:

    Thinking of you today while in my garden, “even the pines want to sing your name, with their leaves of wire” (Neruda, from Aqui te Amo)
    Take good care of yourself and let nature nurture you.

    Reply

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