like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades;
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look at time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence.
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
5 comments:
How wonderful words of Mary Oliver are-giving grace and simplicity and glory all together. Thanks for sharing her here.
That was the poem that introduced us, Sue especially, to Mary Oliver many years ago. We heard it over the radio at the broadcast funeral of a well know Canadian radio journalist.
One of my favotites. So lovely and lyrical. I reflect on it often. Thsnk you for posting it.
"I don't want to end up simply having visited this world." Indeed, I do not. thank you for this post and Happy Thanksgiving!
Mary Oliver's words are inspiring as this post. I finally browsed blogland and glad I still have your site bookmarked. This is a perfect anthem to the cold dark autumn we have now. And as we await the dreaded storm that will wreak havoc on roads and airports throughout the Midwest. Thank you for this reminder about Mary Oliver. I need to fix that posting as below but well for now.. my book blog below, but oh well, Happy Thanksgiving
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