POETRY IS LIKE TAKING A DEEP BREATH

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

HOW EVERYTHING LOVES BEING ALIVE







What
if you were
a beetle, and a soft wind

and a certain allowance of time
had summoned you
out of your wrapping,
and there you were,

so many legs
hardening,
maybe even
more than one pair of eyes

and the whole world
in front of you?
And what if you had wings
and flew

into the garden,
then fell
into the up-tipped
face

of a white flower,
and what if you had
a sort of mouth,
a lip

to place close
to the skim
of honey
that kept offering itself

what would you think then
of the world
as, night and day,
you were kept there -

oh happy prisoner -
sighing, humming,
roaming
that deep cup?



Mary Oliver
1935



5 comments:

  1. Well, I have to say, after participating in our little protest over here, it's particularly welcome to come out of the dark and find this lovely poem. Thank you!

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  2. It would be heavenly if I were the beetle!! :)

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  3. I'm a fan. Hadn't seen this one, and I thought it was yours. Ahh!

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  4. Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets - this is a new poem for me. And the flower looks so pure.

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