It’s been a long time since I posted any poetry and that’s a sad thing. It’s been even longer since I wrote any, which is sadder. I read this poem online tonight and it was also because of a sad thing…one of the bloggers I read had posted it in tribute to her brother-in-law who recently passed away from cancer. It really struck me, and while I know most of my friends are fans of Mary Oliver’s work and are probably familiar with it, I thought I’d share it anyway.
Mysteries, Yes
by Mary Oliver
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity,
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.