Below is a blog entry I wrote several years ago honoring Mary Oliver. In light of her passing a couple of days ago, I thought I would re-post this as a tribute to her....
The interplay of light and shadow,
the subtlety of color, form, texture, and shape....
Delicate, lavish, lush and sensual...
and the scent.....
Life unfurling in Spring...
Below is a poem by Mary Oliver, one of my favorite poets. Her poetry is a treasure and a gift to us all. She has won the National Book Award, the Pulitzer Prize, and is admired by many. She often writes about the natural world, creating an intimate portrayal of its landscapes and inhabitants. Her poems, full of such beauty, somehow captures in the way only poets and artists can the unspoken part of what lay in the details of this beautiful world.
I believe this is why poetry, music and art are so important to the world, to people and society. It is heartening to know that our joys and struggles are on some level universal. When an artist is able to express what we ourselves cannot say, it frees and inspires us. This is why we are moved by art, by the combination of notes, of colors, of words. It stirs something within us and touches those parts that are forgotten and long to be remembered…….
From New And Selected Poems by Mary Oliver
This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers
and they open --
pools of lace,
white and pink --
and all day the black ants climb over them,
boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away
to their dark, underground cities --
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,
the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
their red stems holding
all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again --
beauty the brave, the exemplary,
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
Copyright Peonies - Mary Oliver
Blog Entry Copyright Map To The Imagination 2013