Landscape

Murmuration-of-Gretna-Green


Isn’t it plain the sheets of moss, except that

they have no tongues, could lecture

all day if they wanted about

 

spiritual patience? Isn’t it clear

the black oaks along the path are standing

as though they were the most fragile of flowers?

 

Every morning I walk like this around

the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart

ever close, I am as good as dead.

 

Every morning, so far, I’m alive. And now

the crows break off from the rest of the darkness

and burst up into the sky – as though

 

all night they had thought of what they would like

their lives to be, and imagined

their strong, thick wings.

 

A poem today by Mary Oliver, as my friend Garrison likes to say. Lovely to think about as spring begins to unveil itself. "If the doors of my heart ever close, I am as good as dead" – I love that line. I am sorry to say I don't have a photo credit for the amazing murmuration of starlings, the photo came to me from a friend and I don't know it's origins. 

5 thoughts on “Landscape”

  1. What an awesome poem! It brought up many images and longings as I remembered the pond on my family’s property in upstate New York – a magical place where imagination and curiosity ran unchecked every day.

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  2. Ah, a dose of Mary Oliver is just what we need:
    “take as often as needed”
    Thanks for this. I hope that the photographer stands up and waves her/his hand at you. They’ll be very pleased at your artful use of the image. It’s stunning.

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  3. i love mary…and don’t get me started on the sky whipped by enormous black wings.
    fran come on over and link in to postcards from paradise. something i am hoping to be a labyrinth, blog by blog, sharing the art of “seeing”. each stop a place of reflection, beauty, peace.

    Reply

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