I can not pass on Mary Oliver poetry even when I posted Wild Geese recently. I have not posted The Journey. We each reach those times when we do not follow the directions we are given by others and live life for what it is to be lived for. We can only live it for one purpose and that is our life.
Originally posted on And So It Begins:
I’ve recently woken up to the poetry of Mary Oliver. I don’t know why I haven’t really discovered her till now; it wasn’t for lack of the universe whispering her name in my ear! Here are two of her poems that I love.
The Journey by Mary Oliver
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I am not sure which is more spectacular the image or the poem. They fit so well together. The opening lines reminded me of Langston Hughes’ poem: A Dream Deferred. We need our dreams and interests, the people and things, we love to make our lives complete.
Originally posted on Positive Outlooks Blog:
Don’t ever let people tell you that you aren’t good enough
Because you are.
Don’t ever give up your dreams
Because you need them.
Don’t ever compromise your morals
Because they make you who you are.
Don’t ever hide your feelings
Because someone’s willing to hear them.
Don’t ever think you’ve got it all figured out
Because the next moment you won’t.
Don’t ever live your life in the past
Because then you’ll miss out on the now.
Don’t ever let people bring you down
Because they don’t deserve to.
Don’t ever be someone you aren’t
Because then you’ll never know you who really are.
Don’t ever let someone tell you how you feel
Because it’s not their right to.
Don’t ever give up something that feels right
Because it probably is.
Don’t ever worry about the petty things
Because they just don’t matter.
Don’t ever run away from your…
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When I was growing up, an ice cream cone was a treat. It was a little thing, but it was special. It is often the little things we recall from our past or perhaps they call us.
Mary Oliver has a way of starting with an idea and then she shifts it so well. She asks questions that provoke more questions than certain answers. Wouldn’t the heavens not have shaken their fist? I think about the ways that the heavens could shake their fist, but Nature does not.
There is patience. What are the little with which the heavens speak of peace. They are countless and, when I open my heart, they find me so easily.
How do the heavens invite us as they open up and invite?
There are days
when the sun goes down
like a fist,
though of course
if you see anything
in the heavens
in this way
you had better get
your eyes checked
or, better, still,
your diminished spirit.
have no fist,
or wouldn’t they have been
for a thousand years now,
longer than that,
at the dull, brutish
ways of mankind—
Instead: such patience!
to let us continue!
little by little,
only, so far, in
pockets of the world—
Behold, how the fist opens
This is a wonderful picture that is all about spring and Easter. It was a great way to conclude the week.
I just finished reading Alan Watt and his book called The Book. He says there is no need to describe and define God. God exists in our inability to define and describe the mystery.