Tag Archives: Poem

The Perfect Love of Spring

Spring by Mary Oliver

“Somewhere a black bear has just risen from sleep and is staring

down the mountain. All night in the brisk and shallow restlessness of early spring

I think of her, her four black fists flicking the gravel, her tongue

like a red fire touching the grass, the cold water. There is only one question:

how to love this world. I think of her rising like a black and leafy ledge

to sharpen her claws against the silence of the trees. Whatever else

my life is with its poems and its music and its glass cities,

it it also this dazzling darkness coming down the mountain, breathing and tasting:

all day I think of her – her white teeth, her wordlessness, her perfect love.”

-Mary Oliver

There Is Only One Question

Spring continues to unfold,  with the absorbing music of life bubbling just beneath the surface.  I feel it.

Parker J. Palmer’s words resonated deeply with me this morning as he wrote the following words as a prelude to Mary Oliver’s poem – both his words and Mary’s poem follow.   They speak to me of of season of rebirth in northwest Montana and of Love.

“Spring arrived on my patch of the planet last week, but it’s 25° here as I write! To encourage the season to show up more fully, here’s Mary Oliver with her spot-on description of “the brisk and shallow restlessness of early spring.”

I’m especially grateful for the profound reminder in the pivotal line of this poem: “There is only one question: how to love this world.”

Oliver illustrates love for the world not with a Valentine sentiment, but with a black bear “just risen from sleep” coming down the mountain with “her white teeth, her wordlessness, her perfect love.”

Wild animals “love the world” because they depend on it for their well-being. We are dependent, too, no matter how arrogantly we pretend that we are self-sufficient.

There’s only one way for us to survive and thrive. We must learn to love the earth and each other with the ferocity of a mother bear—saying “NO!” to everything that threatens that which we love, and “YES!” to all that gives it life…”

-Parker J. Palmer

“Somewhere a black bear has just risen from sleep and is staring

down the mountain. All night in the brisk and shallow restlessness of eary spring

I think of her, her four black fists flickering the gravel, her tongue

like a red fire touching the grass, the cold water. There is only one question:

how to love this world. I think of her rising like  black and leafy lodge

to sharpen her claws against the silence of the trees. Whatever else

my life is with its poems and its music and its glass cities,

it is also this dazzling darkness coming down the mountain, breathing and tasting,

all day I think of her — her white teeth, her wordlessness, her perfect love.”

-Mary Oliver

 

Christmas at Midlife

Christmas at Midlife by Mary Anne Perrone

“I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days.
I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fill it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred.
I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; It’s just not their task
I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star.
I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; It already did, and I survived.
I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now.
I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held.
I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called.
I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out.
I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.
I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle.
I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness. I believe, I Believe.

-Mary Anne Perrone

Bring the Moon Over the Meadows

“Bring the moon over the meadows

As you settle down the sun,

And we’ll go dancing with the dark,

Racing the rivers where they run.

For the heart always needs places

No-one else knows that you are,

So you may sew yourself anew

Beneath a blanket made of stars.

Then in the morning like all rivers

We’ll find our footprints by the sea,

And at last you will be you

And I finally feel like me.”

-Erin Hanson

Footsteps in the Sand
Footsteps in the Sand