I am not sure which Mary Gray wrote this poem. I found it, enjoyed it, and wanted to share it with others.
The poem has a Mary Oliver quality to it. Something speaks to us when we give it time and space. When we listen carefully, the wind blows through the grass giving its a voice we hear when we slow down resting our head on the ground. Humbling ourselves, we are closer to the voices of small things, the dankness of humus (the root word for human and humility), and the friendliness of weeds in our life.
As children, we often forgot our names losing ourselves in precious moments in a world larger than we were. It enveloped us and everything it revealed was wondrous. We recall running with outreached hands into the world, its silence, its disarray, and the inviting of small things in the grass which were more at our level. I remember the ladybugs, spiders, ants, etc. which were smaller than I was, entranced by them and by all that was immense. It was in those moments I was wise as I listened in ways that sometimes escape me as an adult.
When I am wise in the speech of the grass,
I forget the sound of words
and walk into the bottomland
and lie with my head on the ground
and listen to what grass tells me
and small places for wind to sing,
about the labor of insects,
about shadows dank with spice,
and the friendliness of weeds.
When I am wise in the dance of grass,
I forget my name and run
into the rippling bottomland
and lean against the silence which flows
out of the crumpled mountains
and rises through slick blades, pods,
wheat stems, and curly shoots,
and is carried by wind for miles
from my outstretched hands.
Thank you so much for sharing!!
You are welcome Amy.
So beautiful! I had to read it several times to internalize every word. It has so many simple messages.
A beautiful piece.
Thank you Melody.
This reminds me of myself when I was a child and now. I think I got busy somewhere in between with all sorts of nonsense. Thanks for always sharing such beauty in words.
You are welcome and thank you for the comment. I think we get busy and, if we are lucky, we step back realizing the need to be less busy.
Yes, I do believe I have the need to be less busy. At least I recognize it now.
A wondrous poem, thank you.
You are welcome.
You are right. There are messages hidden from easy sight. I found that was an appealing part of this poem.
This is an incredible poem, and I adore your introduction to it. Yes when we were little, following the antics of beetles and marveling at clouds, we were wise. This post helps me to remember that wisdom. And the poem touches me so deeply it brightens my eyes with tears. Thank you Ivon. Blessings, Gina
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