Mary Oliver's new book, A Thousand Mornings, has, as all her books do, a handful of very fine pieces. It's well worth reading; I find myself returning to poem after poem. There is a delicate simplicity, a certain lyric sleight of hand she performs that transports us to that place of awe and revelation. Here is a poem from that collection:
Today
Today I'm flying low and I'm
not saying a word.
I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I'm taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I'm traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.
~ Mary Oliver
Wednesday Haiku will return next week.
on a snowy day
the temple is packed...
pigeons, sparrows
translated by David G. Lanoue
best,
Don
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8 comments:
Great poem by Oliver. I've felt like that all over the holiday break (and hopefully will until the new semester starts). As always, love the Issa, and you picked a particularly resonant one for today.
- Andrew
I have recently read this wonderful book of poems. Mary Oliver is a national treasure. Thanks for having this poem here today. And the Issa, always a wonder.
Mary Ahearn
Yeah, I like that one. Would appreciate some stillness, but I can't today.
Many thanks, Don... My all time favorite of hers is "Mindful"... "the prayers that are made/ out of grasses?"
Merrill
Andrew! Good to hear from you and glad to hear you are getting some respite in between semesters. And very glad that this one hit the mark. Hope to see you (relatively) soon. Don
I second that, Mary. The book is like getting an at once light, but deeply insightful, letter from an old friend.
Cheers, Charles. Glad you liked it.
Merrill ... You sent me off to read Mindful again - now I owe you!
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