Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Mary Oliver in the Morning~

 Claude Monet

The Ponds
~By Mary Oliver

Every year
the lilies
are so perfect
I can hardly believe

their lapped light crowding
the black,
mid summer ponds.
Nobody could count all of them-

the muskrats swimming
among the pads  and the grasses
can reach out
their muscular arms and touch

only so  many, they are that 
rife and wild.
But what in this world
is perfect?

I bend closer and see
how this one is clearly lopsided-
and that one wears an orange blight-
and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away-
and that one is a slumped purse
full of its own
unstoppable decay.

Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled-
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even 
to float a little 
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.

I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing-
that the light is everything- that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and fading.  And I do.

I read this one, this morning, when nothing in this world seemed right, and when I got to the last stanza of this poem, every thing was beautiful.  Mary Oliver, she reaches into my heart over and over again.  Now there is only gratitude and light.


carey said...

mary oliver has that effect on me, too.

Anonymous said...

That is a lovely and very inspirational poem. Thank you so much for posting it!

Love the picture too. It's one of my favorite paintings. So simple and yet so beautiful.


mamak said...

She soothes my soul also.

herhimnbryn said...

Horrid for you to have a 'nothing right' morning. Pleased that MO put it right. She does that doesn't she?

ArtSparker said...

It's good when art can help.