Friday, September 29, 2017

Sunrise - Poem by Mary Oliver

SUNRISE

You can
die for it --
an idea,
or the world. People

have done so,
brilliantly,
letting
there small bodies be bound

to the stake,
creating
an unforgettable
fury of light. But

this morning,
climbing the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought

of China
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun

blazes
for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises

under the lashes
of my own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name?

What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it

whatever you want, it is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire.

 *
by Mary Oliver, Dream Work




Thursday, September 28, 2017

Poem: Lines Written In The Days of Growing Darkness


LINES WRITTEN IN THE DAYS
OF GROWING DARKNESS

Every year we have been
witness to it: how the
world descends

into a rich mash, in order that
it may resume.
And therefore
who would cry out

to the petals on the ground
to stay,
knowing as we must,
how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be?
I don't say
it's easy, but
what else will do

if the love one claims to have for the world
be true?
So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
this and every crisping day,

though the sun be swinging east
and the ponds be cold and black,
and the sweets of the year be doomed.

***

by - Mary Oliver -
A Thousand Mornings











Thursday, September 21, 2017

Los Lonely Boys - Heaven